Forsaken
by Delila Shale
Summary: Sucked into an unknown world, Mallory must adapt to survive. Little does she know what an integral part she'll play in saving Ferelden. But first she must put her demons behind her. Both the ones that haunt her past and the Pride Demon, Hybris, that is still hunts her. OC X Zev
1. Prologue

** This is going to be a very mature fic. There will be cursing, torture, and non consensual sex. I do not condone any of this behavior. If you have issues with it then do not read. **

Forsaken

Temptation

Prologue

Mallory blanched as the demon approached her once more, averting her eyes from his grotesque form. She struggled against her bonds to no avail. Hybris grinned maliciously at her fear; proudly display his many rows of razor sharp teeth, as she flinched away from him. The pride demon chuckled mirthlessly, using his long taloned fingers to sweep a stray piece of strawberry blonde hair from Mallory's battered face in an almost revering manner. The young woman hissed in pain as the demon suddenly grabbed her jaw, forcefully opening her mouth as his nails dug into her flesh. He wretched her head up forcing her to look at him in the face, his yellow eyes aglow with demonic fire.

"Come now, pet. We don't have to prolong this. I can take away your pain. I can end your suffering. All you have to do is say yes."

He said in his strange timbre: a sound like three different pitched voices speaking in time backed by grinding metal. He ran his talons down her cheek, caressing her swollen lip. Mallory glared at him, trying to scorch him with the heat behind her eyes. To say she loathed him would be an understatement. No words could describe her hate; her malice. She detested herself for hating so much, but she recognized its value. The hate made her strong: the anger helped her resist. She mustered her courage and spat in his face. His long purple tongue snaked out and licked the mixture of spittle and blood from his chin, his smile widening. He liked it when she defied him. He had said once that it made her more beautiful. She knew she would be punished for her indiscretion later. He would make her scream, make her bleed; make her beg him to stop. She would do all those things, but she would never agree to his terms. To do so was to lose herself, utterly, and everything she was: to literately sell her soul to a devil. Hybris tsked, raking his claws against her exposed flesh. She whimpered as his nail drew lines of blood that trickled down her abdomen.

"So stubborn…so beautiful. Do you not see? How beautiful you are? Every scar, every mark, every wound…more and more beautiful. You will be the highlight of my collection. My pride and joy, if you will. It's an honor to be chosen for this very integral part of my anthology, and yet, you still refuse. I do not understand, pet."

He stated with grandeur, sweeping his hands up as if aghast in melodramatic fashion as he turned away from her. He mockingly placed his hands over his chest where his heart would have lain if he had one, casting a glance over his shoulder on her broken form.

"I am offering you the opportunity to be lovelier than you ever have been in life. To be gazed upon in envy. To be cherished and cared for more than any mortal man could ever dote on you. That is why I have expended such vast amounts of magic to bring you here and yet you only award me with disdain. You are so cruel."

Mallory snorted in mad laughter at his comments, disregarding the pain it caused her bruised ribs as they expanded. His version of beauty was a twisted, wicked thing. He had no interest in her physical form, which was far from attractive. At six foot tall with a stout Germanic build, she had spent her youth being referred to as the "Jolly Green Giant." Always singled out for being too tall. Too small breasted. Too muscular. At the age of thirty the insults had grown more politically correct but no less hurtful. She had long ago resigned herself to being referred to as "cute" in polite company rather than beautiful. None of this mattered to Hybris, however. He barely noticed her physical imperfections being far more fascinated by her battered soul. He desired to add it to his "collection." He considered himself an antiquarian of spirits. Many poor souls were already trapped in the faceted amber crystals that adorned his palace in this realm he called the Fade. It was her soul that had caught his attention and caused him to drag her to this horrid land in the first place.

The crystals had been the first thing she had seen when she was thrown from the shimmering vortex that stolen her from her home. Dazed, she had found herself on the floor of some grand chamber. The very air seemed alive and danced before her eyes in myriads of colors like gaseous vapors. Strange organic structures created the walls and furniture, like overgrown vines that had been trained to grow together. Upon closer inspection, Mallory noticed they weren't plant like at all, but rather fleshly appendages that pulsed with life. She had startled when several tendrils had come free from a nearby wall and snagged a floating gem, rooting it in place in the wall like some gothic fairy tale mirror. A crystal, larger than her, had lazily drifted past as she gathered herself from the floor. Thinking she was dreaming, she had reached out to touch the floating gem only to shrink back in horror when the image of a person appeared inside. The man had copper hair that was layered to gracefully fall over his pointed ears. His lithe naked body was covered in burns that stretched over his entire thin frame. She couldn't see his face, for hands covered it completely as wept profusely, never acknowledging her presence. She had turned to run, unaware of where she was or even where she would flee to, her only desire to escape from what she had witnessed. It was then that Hybris had appeared behind her. The nine foot pride demon towered over her, his black and purple chitinous skin gleaming coldly in the amber light. Sharp thorny projections covered his upper arms mimicking the two long black horns that spiraled from the top of his head. When he grinned at her, he displayed several rows of prominent teeth designed to rend flesh with ease. A sound she hadn't even thought possible for the human vocal cords to produce escaped her lips as he greeted her in earnest.

"Welcome! Welcome, most honored guest!"

He slithered around her with impossible speed, herding her back to the crystal. "What does it call itself?" It asked. Mallory had tried to will herself invisible, but it didn't work. She was unable to answer due to the atrocious croaking noise still spilling from her lips so she just shook her head stumbling away from the creature. The demon peered at her intensely, amused by the sounds she was making. It smiled at her, slowly forcing her ahead step by agonizing step.

"Hmm.. no matter. Its name has already been decided. I am Hybris. Pride demon of the Fade. Collector of rarities."

"Fade?" Was all Mallory could utter in terror.

"Yes, this realm I have so graciously brought you to. But, there's time for that later. Come! Come! I see you have already met one of your brethren."

The demon clasped Mallory on the shoulder as it directed her to face the crystal. It took every bit of willpower she had not to pass out. She stood rigid with fear as his claws dug painfully into her clavicle. The pride demon tapped the clawed fingers of his free hand on the gem, reminding her of a child tormenting fish trapped behind the glass of an aquarium. The talons made a sharp clanging noise as they struck the surface, sending eerie echoes throughout the chamber. "Wake up! Wake up Despair!" The male elf trapped inside the gemstone scrambled away from the demon, but had no where to go as he backed into the other side of the gem. Tears continued to stream down his cheeks as he faced his captor.

"This is Despair." He said turning to Mallory. He pointed to the weeping man in excitement; with pride. Mallory shook her head not understanding.

"His name is Despair?" She asked.

Hybris beamed and told the elf's story like a macabre bard. "That's who he is now. What his name was is inconsequential. He was a farmer: A serf under a powerful human lord. One year his crops were no longer thriving and a harsh winter approached. He had to make a decision to feed his family for the winter on their meager crops, or to use those crops to pay the tariff on the land to the Duke. He chose to feed his family. So the Duke chose to burn his cottage for recompense…with his wife and child still inside! He was unable to save them and their loss overwhelmed him, and thus, he became Despair. He is one of the newer pieces of my collection. Isn't he perfect?"

He released his hold on her and clacked his talons together, enjoying retelling the poor man's loss. Mallory looked at him in horror, not wanting to believe what she had just heard.

"And you keep him here. A prisoner? That's terrible!" She uttered without thinking.

Hybris quirked his head and shrugged. "Is it? He made a choice and that was the consequence. Surely, you understand how cruel humans cans be? What would you pay to right the wrongs other did unto you?"

Her features colored scarlet in embarrassment and ire as his comment twisted the knife already lodged in her heart. Hybris just smiled, knowing his remark had hit home.

"Besides, I offered him a chance for revenge and this was the price." He continued nonchalantly. "His soul in exchange for the slow and painful murder of the Duke and his family. Something he could have never accomplished on his own. A worthy trade if I do say so myself. Well… At least for me. Sadly, the death of the Duke and his family did little to quell his grief. But, here I am, prattling on about him when he knows nothing of you. Tsk. What a dreadful host I am. Despair! Meet my newest acquisition!" He said gleefully, inching Mallory forward with a hand on her back. "Isn't she lovely? Don't you think she's perfect for our centerpiece?"

Mallory turned to the demon in confusion. "Acquisition? Centerpiece? What are you talking about? This is nuts! It's just some stupid dream. I want to wake up! I want to go home!"

She dared to challenge the creature. From the corner of her eye, she witnessed the elf give her a long sad look. He mournfully shook his head and returned to the fetal position, sobbing hysterically. Hybris scoffed in disdain.

"Home? My my, how ungrateful. Why, my dear, you are home. I've got the perfect place all prepped and ready for you. See!"

Mallory found her outrage waning as the demon grabbed her by the back of the neck and propelled her to the center of the chamber. She tried to dig her feet into the ground but he pushed her forward as if she weighed nothing. Several crystals of various sizes and shapes parted before him, creating a path to an immense gem that appeared to be growing from the very ground. The ocher crystal was the only one that appeared as a natural gemstone with a few shards branching out from all sides. It glowed softly with some inner light and Mallory could hear a faint humming emitting from it. The demon shoved her towards the stone, forcing her to brace herself on the formation. When her palms touched the surface, the humming grew louder and the crystal shimmered beneath her hands. She felt an alien sensation, as if her very essence was forcefully being drawn into the hard planes. IA reflection of herself appeared on the surface, nude and softly glowing. Except it wasn't her. Not really. The edges around her form were blurred as if she could fade away into nothingness at any time. Scars marred her body, crisscrossing over her features and limbs haphazardly. The largest ran across her left breast almost down to her navel. Jagged and twisting, the scar tissue formed a mortal wound, for no living thing she knew could have survived an injury like that. Like someone had ripped their heart out.

"No!" She screamed in panic, breaking contact with the gem. Hybris frowned at her, the expression distorting his grotesque features even more than usual.

"Are you not pleased?" he inquired. "This is your home. I made it just for you. To enhance your beauty. You are the final piece of my collection."

Mallory stared at the demon, not understanding. "Collection?" she asked confused, her pitch rising in panic. "I have no idea what you are talking about. More so, I have no idea who you are and where I am. My name is Mallory Kirsh and I want to go back to Florida. Back to Earth! Back home!"

Hybris growled at her; a sound that made her knees buckle in fear. His anger left as quickly as it came, leaving her no less shaken. He seemed more dangerous when he was composed.

"Calm yourself, pet. No need to get upset." The corners of his mouth turned up in a malevolent smile. "At least, not yet." He corrected. "All will be explained in time. For you see, that is all we have here in the Fade. Time. For now, all you need to know is that this is no dream and you are home. See?" He gestured to a golden plaque that was bolted onto the front of the crystal. Deeply etched in to gleaming surface in a compact font was one word: FORSAKEN. The color drained from Mallory's face as she realized the implications. She hardly felt Hybris's hands rest on her shoulders as he whispered in her ear.

"Welcome home, Forsaken."


	2. Betrayal

**Warning: cursing, mature situations and torture. **

Chapter One

Betrayal

Mallory pulled into the driveway of her 1980s style ranch home, flicking off her lights as she brought her vehicle to a standstill. She sat in her car as the engine idled trying to unwind from the horrible day she had. Her head pounded with a migraine due to the absurd number of customers that had screamed at her all day. Pinching her brow between her fingers, she attempted to drown out the shrill voices that had rung in her ears for the last six hours. "Ah the life of a call center employee after labor day sales." She said to herself. It was the same thing every year. Credit card owners would go crazy with all the sales then it would dawn on them about a week later that they had overspent on their account. Then they flooded the phones with panicked calls ranting about their interest rates and credit limits. It never failed to amaze her how irresponsible some people could be. Mallory sighed, realizing her gesture was futile: her headache was not leaving her anytime soon.

"Meow!" Mallory started as her calico cat, Minx, leapt on the hood of her car. "Meoow!" The cat cried once more, obviously peeved that she had not immediately responded to the fact she was wasting away without food. Turning off the car, Mallory grabbed her purse and dodged the protesting cat that was weaving between her legs.

"MEOW!" Minx had forgone politeness and was now yowling in earnest at her owner's sluggish pace. Mallory smirked as she strolled up the walkway, glancing back her husband's truck that took up a majority of the drive way. "Daddy didn't feed you yet?" She asked the feline who responded with a forlorn mew. Mallory sighed as she put the key in the lock, opening her front door to allow the cat to dart inside at a break neck speed. "Guess not." She mumbled, pushing the door open.

The cool AC swept over her, offering marginal relief from the oppressive Florida humidity as she shut the door behind her. Surprised at the near darkness the engulfed the house, she patted down the wall until she located the light switch. Flicking on the lights, she dropped her purse in its usual spot and went to the kitchen to feed the starving cat. _I guess he's asleep. _She thought as she pondered the whereabouts of her husband. It wasn't unusual. They had worked opposite shifts for almost a year now and by the time she got home he was typically asleep. It was hard not seeing him as often as she wanted, but she loved him dearly. They had moved in together four years ago with the money she had saving up while working two jobs. The house was small: a two story house with three bedrooms and one and a half baths, but it was theirs and she was damn proud of it. It was the perfect starter home for a family... but things hadn't gone as intended. Still, she was grateful to share her life with him, even if their plans hadn't fully worked out.

Mallory grumbled cantankerously to herself as she spooned out the fishy smelling cat food into Minx's bowl. She HAD hoped to surprise him by coming home early and spending some time with him, but once he was out there was almost no waking him. As she opened the pantry to toss out the empty can in the trash, an odd noise came from the upstairs master bedroom. A slight thumping on the ceiling. _Maybe he is up! _Her heart leapt at the prospect of spending some time with him. She quickly washed the processed cat food off her hands and made her way up the stairs to the bedroom.

Opening the door with a jubilant grin, she whispered, "Surprise Justin! I made it home early." as she peeked her head around the door. Surprise indeed. On top of her husband writhed a young woman. The light from the hallway revealed her naked bronze flesh and lustrous chocolate hair. Petite. Beautiful. Buxom. A goddess. Everything a woman was supposed to be. Everything Mallory wasn't. "Shit!" Justin yelled as he noticed her standing in the doorway.

"Justin?" Mallory's voice sounded small even in her own ears. The woman on the bed gave her a cruel smirk and casually slipped off her boyfriend like Mallory was the intruder. "Fuck!" Justin yelled covering himself with a sheet in embarrassment.

"Well, looks like you better tell her." The woman said with a thick Cuban accent as she pulled on her clothes.

"Jesus, Mallory. What the fuck are you doing home so early?"

"I thought I'd come home and surprise you." she heard her own voice say distantly. _Six years... six years. _

"Shit, look this-"

Mallory's head snapped up, fury in her eyes. "Is what? Isn't what it looks like? Wasn't supposed to happen? What!? What could you possibly have to say to make this ok? Six years, Justin! We are married! We have been together SIX FUCKING YEARS!" She was screaming now, her hands balled up into fists at her sides as she shook with outrage.

"And who the hell are you?" she directed to the Cuban

"No me jodes, puta!" The woman hissed. "I'm what yo man needed. A real woman. No some barren bitch that couldn't even give him kids."

It was a slap in the face. Her darkest secret from the lips of a stranger. A shame she bore on a daily basis: that she was less of a woman because she couldn't have kids. She looked at Justin and he refused to meet her gaze. It was more of a betrayal than the sex. Hurt deeper than his cheating. It was what she had feared all along. What he had promised her would never happen. Had even reassured her that it wouldn't change things between them; that he would love her no matter whatas he had vowed to do when he stood at the alter. For better or worse. It was the reason they had gotten Minx. A cat instead of a kid. It had seemed a balm for both of them to relieve the pain and disappointment at the time. He had lied to her the entire time.

"Get out." Her lips whispered numbly.

"Mal, I'm sor-"

"Get out! Get OUT! GET OUT!" She raged, grabbing anything she could to throw at them.

"Jesus, Mal! At least let me get my clothes!" Justin screamed as he ducked an incoming jewelry box.

"Ala puta! Crazy bitch!" Cuban woman yelled clawing at Mallory. Mallory ignored her as her fake nails drew blood. She didn't feel much when she was angry. No pain. No fear. No regret. It was one of the reasons she tempered herself so. She wasn't quite sure what she was capable of when she lost control and it frightened her. Now though, with six years of her life wasted, her marriage at an end, and her greatest shame laid bare, she found she was no longer afraid anymore. Without hesitation, she latched her hands around Cuban woman's throat. The build that had caused her such torment growing up now was put to use, crushing the woman's throat beneath her powerful fingers.

_So soft, so easy. _She marveled at how the woman's flesh gave so effortlessly to the pressure her fingers exerted. It was fascinating to see the bronze skin of the goddess turn purple and bruise as she tightened her grip.

"Fuck! Fuck! Mal! Let go!" Modesty forgotten, Justin was trying to pry her finger's off his lover's neck. Mallory squeezed harder. "Mallory! She's pregnant!"

Electrical shock can make the muscles involuntarily contract, but it would seem metal shock has quite the opposite effect, for Mallory's fingers opened without her commanding them. Her victim fell to the tile floor gasping for air as the bruising spread. Justin cradled her head and whispered into her ear as she struggled to breath. A lover's intimate murmur.

Mallory sat on the bed, staring at the floor. Her mind noticed all the tiny details that no longer mattered. Like the dust bunnies gathering near the dresser. She made a mental note to sweep later as she continued to stare at the floor. She closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to break her down. _Of course she is._ "How long have you been seeing her?" she finally asked.

"A few months." Justin said rocking Cuban slightly.

Mallory snorted humorlessly. "So...only a few months after we found out that I can't have children." It wasn't a question.

"Mal, I'm sorry. I thought it wouldn't matter. I was wrong."

"And when were you planning on telling me?"

"Soon. I we were saving up to get an apartment together. We were going to tell you then."

"So until then, you were what? Using me? Biding you time? Fucking her while pretending to love me?"

No answer save wheezy on the floor. Mallory chuckled finding a dark humor in the situation.

"Mal. I never meant to hurt you. I really did love you. I still do. It's just- Things changed for me when I found you couldn't have kids."

"What's her name?"

"Claudia."

_Claudia.. Claudia the Cuban. Claudia the home wrecker. Claudia the baby maker. _She stood and gathered his clothes from the floor and tossed it at him. "Take Claudia and get the fuck out of my house."

He didn't protest as got dressed, keeping a wary eye on her the entire time. Mallory didn't have the energy to attack either one of them. She was too busy trying to keep herself from falling apart. She grabbed his keys off the nightstand pausing at a heart pang when she realized the would never be sitting there again and removed the set of house keys before tossing them to him. Clothing on, Justin helped his girlfriend down the stairs. Mallory followed closely behind them and even opened the front door for them as they exited. Justin stopped just beyond the threshold and licked his lips as he mustered the courage to say something.

"Mal, this isn't how I wanted things to go. I'm sorry."

_Sorry. YOU'RE SORRY! _Her mind screamed, indignant. She gave him a small reserved smile. "Yeah, well sorry doesn't change a damn thing does it?" She replied as she slammed the door in his face. As she began bolting the locks on the door, the tears that had threatened to overwhelm her flooded her eyes: drowning her green irises in liquid sorrow. CLICK. The second lock brought a torrent of memories to her mind. All the things they had created and cherished together now forever lost. All the things that would never be. CLICK. It was the sound akin to the loaded chamber in a game of Russian Roulette lining up with the barrel. The last breathtaking seconds before you pull the trigger and blow yourself away. With a twist of the final lock, her heart shattered as the bolt clicked in place, destroying her from inside out.

* * *

Mallory walked down the dirt road that led down her block, the gravel crunching under her sneakers. The cicadas that nested in the abundant pines chirred a soothing melody in the humid night air, but the beauty of the song was lost upon Mallory. She couldn't stay in the house any more and sure as hell couldn't sleep: too many memories and the urge to break anything fragile drove her out into the balmy night. She walked without direction into the dark night just letting her feet lead her. Her road was desolate and forlorn under the midnight moon, with few neighbors and drainage canals from the Everglades that cut her house off in an improvised cul-de-sac. She passed the single street lamp that lined her road oblivious it's flickering. The moths that danced around the lonely source of light fluttered in confusion as the illumination from bulb sputtered and died. The wind picked up plastering strands of her hair to her face as they were saturated with her tears. She didn't bother to wipe them away. She didn't feel the wind: didn't see the darkness that enveloped her. She was so consumed with grief and pain that they overshadowed everything else, even her instincts. Had she not been so self absorbed in her feelings she may have noticed the static in the air that made her hair stand on end. She might have realized the cicadas had stopped humming and the night was suddenly silent as if holding its breath. She may have even felt the air pressure suddenly drop around her as the portal opened beneath her feet. Instead, she was taken completely by surprise as the ground came out from under her and she was swallowed by darkness without even the opportunity to scream. When the vortex closed, it left in its wake a circle of smoldering earth. As the wisps of heat dissipated in the air the cicadas resumed their song and the world went on without her.

Mallory felt it again. The shift. It was hard to describe. It was as if this realm, the Fade, occasionally trembled at her presence. No, that wasn't quite right. It wasn't a tremor. More of a push, as if she was a stone displacing water. She could feel the pressure getting stronger, like this place knew she didn't belong here and was trying to expel her. She pulled against the fleshy vines that held her in place, testing their strength. One brushed over the wedding ring she still on her ring finger. It was the only thing Hybris allowed her to wear, preferringf to shame her with her nudity. It served as a constant reminder of her failed marraige and betrayal of her spouse. Maybe it was just her imagination, but they didn't seem quite as rigid as they had been when she first was bound. _How long have I been here? _She found herself wondering. There was no way to gauge the passage of time in this place. She had not witnessed a sunrise or sunset since she arrived. No moon adorned the starless sky that stretched out eternally into nothingness. The only interval she could count was the torture sessions that Hybris put her through. They consisted of both mental and physical agonies that he levied upon her for... hours? Days? Weeks at a time? She had no way of knowing.

The only thing that she was certain of is that he had to have permission to take her soul. It seemed like the rules of some old lore: the devil can't take your soul unless you agree to it… or sign a contract. She had endured five sessions so far. Or so she thought. It was getting difficult to keep track. Her fortitude had come as much as a surprise to Hybris as it had to her. She had led a very sheltered life and a docile childhood, never even breaking a bone and only minor cuts and bruises. Hybris had broken her bones and more. He introduced her to pain in a way she never thought was possible. He was adept at ferreting out her darkest fears and using them against her. He tore her flesh and whispered half-truths in her ears that shattered her soul. In the end, she was a gibbering mess on the verge of madness but her rage would not allow him to be the victor. She clung to the wrath until it blacked out every other emotion and refused him time and time again. Finally, he would become enraged himself and force some strange herbal mixture down her throat that would heal her wounds so they could begin anew at a later point. The healing was agony as well as her torn flesh mended together and broken bones fused into one again.

She had wondered why he didn't kill her, but after a while she realized that doing so would guarantee her soul's freedom. Hybris had no intention of causing her death, only pain and misery until she agreed to give him possession of her spirit. Without it, he couldn't trap her soul in the damnable crystal. He brought her to the brink of death a few times, so close she could feel herself slipping away, but he always healed her. She had tried biting her tongue off and letting herself bleed to death when she had figured that out. He had discovered her bleeding out and after jamming more herbal potion down her throat, rewarded her for her defiance by gagging her.

She was almost glad he had stopped her. She wasn't quite certain what would happen to her if she died here. Did God have anything to do with the place of existence? Would her spirit be trapped here forever? Would it return to earth and go to Heaven if there was such a thing? Or was this Hell? She wasn't sure. She had never really been religious, more agnostic. It left her questioning many things, but she wasn't to thrilled with the prospect of wandering around limbo for all eternity. It also made her wonder why he never healed her with magic. In his rants he would go on and on about how much magic he had wasted bringing her to the Fade, but he used herbs to heal her. She had seen him use magic regularly. He magically made food and water appear in her dungeon room. She had witnessed him rearrange all his precious gems with magic. She couldn't figure out why he never used it on her. No matter. She'd figure it out eventually. Another push interrupted her thoughts; this one definitely stronger. The vines suspending her actually wiggled in protest, loosening slightly. It was happening more frequently now; trying to push her out of this realm. Behind her gag, Mallory smiled. It was as he said: all they had was time and she could wait.

* * *

Session ten…or eleven. Mallory lay naked in a puddle of her own drool and blood. A few of her teeth were staring back at her from across floor. Her one good eye noted the dark recess indicative of a cavity in one of her molars. _I wonder when he gives me the potion if that tooth will grow back with or without a cavity? _These were the insane questions that plagued her mind during torture time. She had developed them as a defense mechanism: using her warped sense of humor to occupy her mind and drown out what Hybris was saying. A sharp kick to the ribs brought her thoughts back to the present. Hybris placed his clawed foot on her chest, resting just enough weight on it to snap a rib. She coughed up blood as it pierced her lung.

"I grow weary of this Forsaken. Your perseverance is admirable though. I ask again, do you want it to stop? Do you wish me to take away your mortal pain? One simple word is all it takes. What say you?" He let up just pressure for her to breathe.

"I shah," she slurred from split swollen lips. "Hat you robably shhooouldn't haf knoked my teef out if you wanted an ansher." Hybris screamed in disgust and delivered a kick that sent her flying across the room. Despite the fact that she slammed into the floor with enough force to give her a concussion, she found herself chuckling as her body slummed on the ground. _He's become more desperate. He knows time is running out. I just.. I just have to hold on a little longer. _She had no idea what was in store for her, but the pressure had been building steadily. Even now, the very air in the room seemed to be screaming at her to get out. That she was an intruder here.

"Insolent wench!" Hybris raged pacing the floor, the tendrils walls of her room writhing in his agitation. "I have moved time and space for you. I have brought you here to be worshipped. I would have given you anything."

_This is starting to sound like Jareth's ending speech from Labyrinth. _She giggled madly as she envisioned Hybris in Jareth's leather pants stomping around the room like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Silence! You weak fool." He rushed over and picked her up by the throat, shaking her violently. "Is it any wonder your lover betrayed you? What man would desire you? You cannot even create life! You are a waste of flesh. I am offering you the chance to become something greater than what you are and you mock me!" He thrust her against the wall the tendrils winding around her as they drew her in. "Let's see you use that clever tongue when you cannot breathe." Fear overwhelmed her as the vines encircled her face, covering her mouth and nose. Not only was she suffocating, she was she drowning in her own blood from her punctured lung.

It was a nightmare come alive for her. As a small child, she had spent summers with her father after her parent's separation. Bitter at the divorce, her sadistic father had taken out his frustrations at his failed marriage on her: the only way he could still hurt his ex-wife. As they played in his apartment's pool, he had forcefully held her head under the water, tantalizingly just below the surface. Her small fists had beaten on him as her air ran out. Just before she lost consciousness, he released her, laughing all the time as she gasped for air and coughed up water. Since then she had been plagued by claustrophobia. Fear became panic and panic turned into frenzy as the memory resurfaced. In her mind's eye, she saw her father's sick broken smile refracted by the water. She tore at the vines with all her might, her wrath blotting out any pain as she ripped them off her. How dare he make her remember that! How dare he use that to torment her! An animalistic scream erupted from her mouth as she ripped the remaining tendril away from her face with shattered fingers and charged the demon with no concern for her safety: her only intent murder.

Hybris backhanded her away as if she was a gnat. Mallory slumped on the ground as she felt her consciousness fading. She was aware of Hybris excruciatingly prying her jaw open and forcing more herbal drink down her throat. _NO! Let me die! Let me die! _She feebly tried to push the vial away from her lips as Hybris smacked her hands away. His face mirrored her father's: indistinct as clarity left her, but grinning with wicked glee. He dropped her callously on the floor as her wounds mended and teeth regrew.

"We will continue this conversation at a later time." He said as she watched his feet disappear behind the curtain of tendrils that closed behind him. Only when she was alone did she cry until awareness abandoned her.

* * *

After session.. unknown. Lost track. Tremor thirty five and counting. They had become a beacon of hope to her: a sign she would soon be free of this place one way or another. Hunger clawed at her insides. Mallory was unable to recall the last time she ate. Hybris was becoming more and more desperate. He was not only withholding meals but also depriving her of sleep. In one of the rare moments he let her doze, she felt herself falling. The tendrils that had once held her so tight uncoiled and dropped her on the floor. Dazed, she raised her head to look around. The chamber was empty: Hybris was no where to be found. Mallory slowly dragged her weary naked body into an upright position. _It's a trick! He's trying to give you hope or escaping so he can break you! _Mallory looked around uncertain. Tremor thirty six. The ground beneath her feet shook. She had to brace herself on the wall to keep her balance. Where her hands touched, the fleshy tendrils shrank and curled away, exposing the crystal hall. She staggered amongst the gems keeping a wary eye out for the demon. She desperately searched for a weapon, but everything in the room was constructed of those damn vines. She didn't really know what she would do with a weapon if she found one. The last time she had tried to fight him he had brushed her aside as if she was nothing, but she would feel better with at least some defense. She froze as a feminine tittering drifted down a hallway. The sound was unnatural, like chimes mixed with breaking glass. A seductive voice flitted through the air as Mallory crept closer not daring to breathe. She peeked her head around the bend and quickly wished she hadn't. What she saw made her briefly consider gouging her own eyes out and then finding one of those herbal potions to drink just so she could grow back clean ones.

A female demon straddled Hybris in a very erotic manner and was seductively massaging him. Strangely beautiful in an alien way, her purple skin nearly glowed with the promise of sexual fulfillment. "You must give me a tour of your wonderful collection." She purred curling her tail around his leg. "I've heard so much about it."

Hybris growled in frustration and pushed her off of him. "No Aphrodisia. I told you it's not yet complete."

The desire demon huffed, her luscious lips forming the perfect entrancing pout. A hint of moisture glistened on them, drawing the eyes to their fullness and all the pleasure they could no doubt deliver. "But when will it be finished. I've waited so long." She stretched out the word long like it was a double entendre. Mallory felt flushed just listening to it roll of her tongue.

"Soon. I'm having far too much fun with this one."

Aphrodisia gave him a sly smile, like she knew he was lying through his many teeth but let it slide. "Oh? Perhaps you'll let me have some fun with her? I do so like spirit."

Mallory flinched, silencing her traitorous mouth with her hand as Hybris roared at the desire demon. Spittle flew from his razor sharp fangs as the deafening roar made the walls shake. Unfazed the woman languidly splayed her sensuous body on the thorny bed created from a mass of tendrils. The vines snaked around her curves, caressing them in a suggestive manner. She chuckled mirthlessly. "No? Ah well. Perhaps we can play instead?"

"Again?" Hybris mockingly chided. "Is there no satisfying you?"

"Never." She whispered, eyes aglow. She opened her arms and drew him to her perfect body.

_I'm going to vomit._ Mallory thought as she started to back away. That was when she spied it, leaning against the wall. A staff of some sort highly decorated with feathers and bones with a ram's horn spiraling from the end. Sturdy. Heavy. A weapon. Grateful that the demons' attentions were otherwise diverted, she carefully plucked it from its resting place and snuck back down the hall. _I have to hurry! Who knows how long he'll be.. er.. occupied. _She dodged some of the crystals and searched for an exit. Everywhere she looked, the tendrils blocked her path in the circular chamber. Her heart sank when she realized there was no exit. Hybris made entrances and exits as he came and went. There were no set ways out except the ones he created.

She stood there for a moment, letting it all sink in until a gentle tapping noise interrupted her thoughts. A hexagonal crystal had drifted near her; the one containing the elf Hybris had dubbed Despair. The coppery haired elf pressed his palm to the edge of the gem as if trying to reach out to touch her, using his other hand to rap on the plane of the gem. When he noticed he had her attention he tried to speak. When Mallory shook her head that couldn't hear anything he said, he gestured frantically to a glowing vein of some sort of blue crystal. The strange formation was growing out of a crag in the ground. Unsure, Mallory wandered over to the ice blue deposit and gazed at it curiously. It was different than the other crystals here, not only in color, but in the power it radiated. Icy stalagmites protruded from the mass, each shining radiantly. It sang with power. She returned her gaze back to Despair, who mimed smashing motion and pointed to her stolen staff. He gestured again. Staff. Smash. Rock. Mallory peered at the rock and shrugged. She had no idea what it would do, but she didn't have any brighter ideas as this time. _Hell, what have I got to lose? _Raising the staff over her head, she brought it down with as much force as she could muster on the nearest spike.

The resulting explosion launched her in the air. As the magical staff struck the lyrium vein, the volatile mineral detonated destroying the nearest crystal and starting a chain reaction that sequentially began to obliterate them all. Mallory blinked the dancing lights from her eyes in enough time to witness the soul of Despair fade away as his gemstone prison shattered on the ground. His eyes, finally free of tears smiled, as he whispered a heartfelt thank you before disappearing. All around her, the remaining gems were splintering, raining shards of amber on the ground. She had just picked herself off the ground when Hybris stormed into the room.

"MY COLLECTION!" He screamed. Aphrodisia followed behind him. Her eyes sparkled in mischievous delight at the destruction she had caused.

"My, my. She IS fun isn't she?"

Hybris ignored the desire demon's taunts and fixed his blood red eyes on Mallory with murderous rage. "What have you done?"

Without waiting for an answer, he charged her, claws out to shred her into pieces. There comes a time when you have to accept your fate. Since she had no hope to defeat him and no where to run, Mallory waited for death to claim her. She stood proudly without a trace of fear as death barreled towards her. Just before his outstretched claws reached her, tremor thirty six occurred. Shove thirty six. Time slowed as Mallory was overtaken by the sensation that someone had grabbed her spine from behind and thrust her through a pane of glass. The next thing she knew, she was flopping head over heel down a grassy slope. She came to a stop after a short tumble and spat out a mouthful of grass. Staff still clutched in her hand, she looked around completely confused.

Gone were the fleshy tendrils of Hybris's palace and the odd shimmering air of the Fade. They were replaced by trees and shrubs that outlined the dense forest surrounding the field she had landed in. _Where am I? _She wondered as she used the staff to get to her feet. The strong scent of foliage assaulted her nose nearly overwhelming her senses. Nothing smelled in the Fade. Even the food the Hybris had fed her tasted of ash and other than her own screams it had been eerily silent. All of her sense where flooded at once. It was like being born: everything was new and too much to take in at one time. The sun too bright. The breeze too cold. Even the sky was too blue. Feeling dizzy, she clutched her staff for support as each familiar yet new sensations bombarded her. A bird's call, light and airy to the east. The faint smell of something burning to the southeast. The clang of metal to the far south interwoven with battle cries. _Wait? Battle cries? Did I land in a renaissance festival? _Taking a slow deep breath, she steady her shaky body and walked a few paces south. Her muscles screamed in protest, having partially atrophied as a result of how ever long she was trapped in the Fade.

She froze as the birds suddenly stopped singing and took off in flight from the south. After a short moment, a man emerged from the forest. He was dressed in armor and carried a large broadsword over his shoulder. Mallory shielded her eyes from the sun's fierce glare, trying to get a better look at the man.

"Hello?" She called out uncertainly. "Please! I need help! Do you have a cellphone I can use?"

The man did not respond, but staggered towards her. _Great. He's drunk. The one person around when I need help and he's wasted._ "Can you call the police? Or at least tell me where I can find a phone. Or where I am for that matter?"

A intelligible sound came from the man, somewhere between a grunt and a scream. He picked up the pace and readjusted the sword in his hands readying it for an attack. That's when she saw she was wrong. The thing before her was humanoid and bipedal, but that's where the similarities ended. It's face was skeletal with a thin layer of flesh stretched across the grisly features as if someone had stopped midway through melting it's skin off. Thick slaver ran between its pointed teeth as it opened its mouth to scream. Even from the distance, Mallory could see the creatures putrid yellow eyes laced with pulsing black veins as they fixated on her. Not a man, but a monster; and it was heading right for her.


	3. Power

**Warning: Non-consensual sex, cursing and extreme violence. I don't own anything from Dragon Age. **

Chapter 2

Power

The monster lurched toward Mallory in a strange stumbling gait picking up speed as it closed the distance. It turned the massive two handed blade to match the horizon: intent on cleaving her in two. The fetid skin thinly stretched over its bald head gleamed dully in the morning light as it charged. As Mallory backed away in horror, the thing issued out a deep mocking laugh from it gaping maw, sending a shiver down her spine. There was nothing remotely human about the sound. All it conveyed was the absolute delight the creature would get from creating chaos and carnage. Legs shaking from both disuse and terror, she turned to run from the fiend that pursued her, using the staff to support her frame. She quickly realized she would never out run of the Fade, her body had not yet had a chance to reacclimatize to gravity. Her legs were as unstable as a newborn foal's. Coupled with the fact that Hybris had been denying her food, she was far too weak to sprint from danger. Instead, she turned to face the oncoming foe. The thing was only a hundred paces away and the distance between them was closing fast.

If she was going to die, it was going to be standing with some dignity, not fleeing in terror like some damsel in distress. She smirked at the thought of her being a damsel. _Not likely. _She gripped the staff tightly to brace for the attack. Just because she was going to die didn't mean she couldn't give him hell while he tried to kill her. She had been tortured, starved, and ripped from her home: As far as she was concerned, a little vengeance was due. Even if that vengeance meant spastically flailing and whacking it in the head with her staff. The monster's skeletal face stretched into a grin as he was upon her. It shrieked as it swung the blade at her side, the wide arc audibly cutting through the air. Mallory barely blocked in time, staggering backwards as the sheer force if the blow drove her to the ground. Seeing that she was now prone, the creature hefted the broadsword overhead, aiming to cleave her skull in two. With her strength waning, Mallory braced her staff with both hands as the blade came crashing down inches from her face. The staff splintered under the weight of the sword, only just holding together, as the blade deeply embedded itself in the three inch oak stave. Mallory felt a surge of panic as she realized her only weapon was about to be reduced to kindling.

Spying a dagger protruding form the monster's belt, she quickly formulated a plan. The thing had practically straddled her in order to get enough leverage to swing the blade. One of his armored legs was between her own, providing the perfect opportunity to off balance him. Using her leg, Mallory hooked her assailant in the back of the knee causing him to come crashing down on top of her. Wincing as the points in his splint mail dug into her naked flesh she felt his grip on the blade loosen. With the last of her strength, she twisted the staff to the side and wretch the blade away from him. She smashed the creature in the face with her staff, dismayed as it snapped in half. Roaring in rage, the creature reared back clutching his face as black blood trickled between its fingers. Tossing aside the broke staff, Mallory snatched the dagger from its side and plunged it deeply into its chest. It howled in pain and rage, clawing at her face. Mallory shielded her eyes with her off hand as its claws tore open her cheeks, forehead and chest as she twisted the blade deeper. With no fear of death in its silted eyes, it leaned further into the blade driving it up to the hilt and hissed in her face. The monster violently coughed, spewing black ichor from its mouth onto Mallory's wounded flesh. The tainted blood burned like acid as it seeped into the shallow lesions that marked her face and body. It entered her flared nostrils, filling them with the smell of decay and infection. She opened her mouth in a silent scream as it slid down her throat and was absorbed by her mucus membranes. Her body convulsed and her eyes rolled back in her head as the taint crawled its way into her organs. The Hurlock let out one last evil cackle as it died and Mallory passed out under its weight as the impure blood overtook her.

* * *

_She was drowning! The darkness surrounded her: overcame her sense with crushing shadows. She was slowly sinking in the viscous ichor. It filled her ears and eyes, blotting out almost everything as she sank further and further into the depths. A faint glimmer of sunlight shone mockingly thru the haze, just out of reach. She swam with all her might, paddling her arms through the gelatinous fluid as the shadows flooded her lungs. The light kept getting smaller: the harder she struggled, the further she receded into the gloom. Her flesh was on fire, devoured by the corrosive blood that ate her from the inside out. She let out a final desperate cry as the light above her winked out of existence and left her alone in the mire. Panic threatened to overwhelm her as she descended, aware of only the dark and the pain. _

_From below her, another light appeared. A kind of sickly yellow, the gigantic crescent moon shape radiated pestilence. As she drifted closer, the light shifted, widening into a perfect oval. Mallory tried to scream as the colossal reptilian eye glared at her. The pupil narrowed to a slit as it focused on her: staring thru her. Thousands of voices whispered, resounding in her head. They called to her to join them in service of the Old God. Mallory felt her resolve weaken. She was tired, so very tired. It would be so easy to just let go and drift away into the darkness. She was parallel to the eye now; close enough to see that it belonged to a great beast. The dragon stared at her, gnashing its jaws as she drifted closer. What had once been a beautiful powerful creature was now a shadow of its former self. Blighted and twisted, the dragon's scales had lost all luster and turned the color of putrid flesh. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in its eye. Most of her hair was gone, the few strands left plastered to her head like a bad comb over. Her skin had blackened and was mottled with purple lesions making her look like a rotting corpse. Milky white eyes stared back at her as she realized what she looked like: the monster that had attacked her. NO! She thought in defiance. She would NOT allow herself to become a monster. Rage flooded her being, consuming her more than the foul blood ever could. It drove the poison from her veins a she pumped her arms with renewed vigor. The taint clung to her, trying to weigh her down as she fought against it. She slowly made progress towards the surface; her flesh restoring as she fought to escape the dragon. The beast roared in anger and the taint fought harder to keep her. Her muscles, now burning with fatigue as well as the corruption, screamed in protest as they reached muscle failure. The light was dazzling closer to the surface; breaking through the gloom and chasing away the shadows. Almost made it! She extended one hand towards the surface, willing her body forward. She breached the taint like she was breaking through a physical wall, gasping for air as the blackened shards shattered around her and dissolved in the sunlight. _

* * *

Mallory gasped awake. The first thing she was aware of was how warm and wonderful the sun felt on her open palm. The second thing she was aware of was the crushing weight of the Hurlock lying on top of her. Groaning with effort, she shoved the corpse off of her naked body. It fell heavily to the side with a dull clang as its armor scraped together. She felt weak and lightheaded. Her stomach squirmed as if Cthuhlu had taken up residence in her intestines. Panting, she shakily sat up and looked around. _How long was I unconscious? _The sun had shifted in the sky and almost directly overhead. _Close to noon. Maybe eleven. A few hours then. _She licked her parched lips, suddenly very aware of her thirst. As her taste buds came into contact with the residual tainted blood, she doubled over and threw up. Her body violently heaved as it expelled bile and the last bit of water she retained. Moaning, she used the back of her hand to wipe her mouth once her stomach stopped churning. _If I don't get food and water soon, I'm not going to last long. I feel sick and completely drained. Where am I? _She turned her eyes skyward as if looking for an answer. In the south, black pillars of smoke plumed upwards to compete with the clouds. They blackened the sky ominously. Mallory may have had no idea where she was, but she was pretty sure heading towards them was a bad idea. _So is staying here. If I don't move soon, more of them may crawl out of the woods. _She shuddered at the thought.

She crawled over to the creature hoping to salvage something. _Definitely not in Kansas anymore._ She mused as she pushed it over. Even in death, the darkspawn had not lost its menace. Its mouth hung open with dark fluids sluggishly dripping from it as they coagulated. Its armor seemed like a mishmash of different pieces looted off corpses rather than anything cohesive. The only elements that tied it together were the bloody handprints and pieces of bones that adorned the heavy steel; a grisly testament to those that had fallen to its blade. Mallory cursed in frustration as her search turned up nothing of value. No food or waterskin and hardly any usable fabric.

Sighing in frustration she set to work stripping the creature of its few resources: the dagger and belt and a few scraps of cloth she used to make her a Victoria Vetri-esk bikini. _Now I really look like an Amazon. _She frowned as she pulled at the fabric in an effort to try and cover herself. She didn't realize how true her assessment was. Her coppery hair was wild and knotted. While in the fade it had grown past her shoulders and swayed haphazardly with the breeze. Black blood streaked her face joining her own that still flowed from several lacerations creating the illusion of war paint. Coupled with the one shouldered top and loincloth she fashioned, she did indeed appear like she had stepped forth from a Greek legend. Figuring she had been nude for heaven only knows how long, she gave up on her attempts at modesty and fastened the belt around her waist. She replaced the dagger in it's sheathe after removing it from the corpse and wiping the black blood away with a handful of grass. She contemplated taking some of the armor, but had no idea how to wear it. Figuring it would just weigh her down and she was to unsteady to benefit from it, she decided to abandon both the armor and greatsword to the scavengers. She did take the heavy iron boots, grateful for once in her life that she had large feet. They were a bit big, but would work better than her traipsing through the woods barefoot. Taking one last look around her, she began marching north, unaware of the advancing horde of darkspawn several leagues behind her.

* * *

_Water!_ Mallory dove into the pond with wild abandon, not caring that her boots were flooding and she was soaked to the bone. Her lips were so cracked and parched it actually hurt when she took her first drink of the cold clear liquid. She drank until her stomach could hold no more and washed the dried blood off her body before returning back to the shore. Her abdomen gurgled noisily as she plopped down by the water's edge: a distinct reminder that though it was full of liquid, she had not eaten for a while. Her thirst satisfied for the moment, she searched around for anything edible. The few ducks that hadn't scattered from her ungraceful entry to the pond were too far away for her to catch. _Not like I have energy to chase after them either. _A few water lilies floated on top of the surface, their pale delicate blossoms reaching skyward. _Probably poisonous. Next. _She tilted her head to the far bank as a frog croaked in the distance. She was hungry enough she briefly considered running into the chest high cattails for some frog legs. Briefly. However, she wasn't THAT hungry yet. She also wasn't too keen on the idea of pursing frogs deep into the foliage. Who knew what manner of creatures lurked in the water? Other than that monstrous creature she fought when she arrived, the only denizens of this world she had seen were birds and a few lizards. Maybe most creatures in this place were horrible mutations like that man was? Mallory forced the disturbing thoughts away and focused on what was more important now: food. She wracked her brain trying to recall episodes of the survival shows she had watched back home trying to recall what plants were safe to eat.

_Home. _She was hit by a wave of sorrow as she thought about the world she knew. She doubted she would ever see it again, though she often wondered what was happening back on Earth. It was painfully obvious that this place, wherever it was, was not her realm. She had long ago cried and screamed over the loss of the only world she had ever known while trapped in the Fade. Now, the only thing left was the dull ache of loss and cold acceptance that things would never again be the same. Even if she could return, she had no idea what she would face. What if time was different in this world than her own? What if everyone she knew had long since died? How would she explain her absence if she did return? To tell the truth would condemn her to a life in a padded room. No. It was best to just leave it behind. Besides, other than a few friends, no one would really miss her absence. She had no family that would morn her loss save Justin and she was fairly certain he was otherwise occupied.

She wiped her eyes to keep the tears at bay. _No sense in wasting water. _She thought as she sniffled and tied her unruly hair back with a strip of cloth. _I will miss my cat though. Cat… Cattails! That's it! I can eat cattails! _Leaping to her feet, Mallory surged forward into thick fronds that lined the bank. The memory was there; you could safely eat the all parts of cattails with no ill effect. Plunging her hands in the cold mud, she spent the next hour digging up rhizomes. By the time the sun had reached its zenith, she had formed a hefty pile of the starchy roots and tall boughs and was eagerly peeling them with her dagger. After eating the hearts of the fronds and the corms raw, she chewed out the starch from the fibrous roots. The starch was similar to eating a raw potato and quickly filled her hungry belly, giving her the strength she needed to continue her trek. A small river emptied into the pond further north. Happily munching on her roots, Mallory followed the river hoping it would lead her to a civilization that was not inhabited by monsters.

* * *

Following the river had proved a fruitful idea after all. Nestled among the woods, the town seemed composed of only a few houses grouped together around a more stately building. The town was surrounded by a wooden spike wall and bordered by tall wheat fields that stretched into the horizon. The river she had been following tapered off into a creek and cut straight through the town, neatly dividing it in two. A rustic wooden sign she had passed inscribed the town's name in the weathered knotty pine: Lothering.

Her legs had become stronger with each step thanks to the energy from the cattails she had dined on and Mallory discovered the small town just as the sun was setting. Her heart skipped a beat in excitement at the sight of the figures in the distance. She was still too far away to see if it was populated with more monstrosities, but by the way the people moved about their business she doubted they were anything more than normal human beings. People scrubbed their laundry on the rocks lining the creek while others pushed carts around the dirt roads. The task denoted intelligence; not like that single minded creature she had fought. She noticed something else. No telephone poles or satellite dishes marred the pristine sky. _There's no technology in this world. The whole world must be like this. Stuck in the Dark Ages. No telephone, computers, or ipods. No cars, AC or… indoor plumbing. Well, at least I know where I am now. Lothering. Not that that does me a lick of good._ Mallory thought about the implications of her realization as she travelled along the river towards the bridge. When she came closer to the stone bridge that crossed the river and gained entrance to the village, she saw that four well armed men occupied the bridge. Though she breathed a sigh of relief that they were normal humans, she was hesitant to approach. The men were all dressed in various styles of imposing armor, ranging from leather to full plate mail. Each had a favored weapon at their side. Daggers, short sword, long sword, and… and an absolutely massive hammer.

Mallory gaped at the impressive weapon that was strapped across the back of the man sporting a pony tail. Crafted in red steel, the maul must have weighed nearly a hundred pounds. The steel gleamed beautifully in the sunset, causing the metal to appear to glow softly. Mallory could honestly say she had never seen anything like it before and she was pretty familiar with hammers. She had been the captain of her local polo club until she was twenty four. She had been fortunate to play polo as long as she had and not sustain any injuries other than some minor cuts and bruises. The sport was brutal and even with precautionary measures and safety gear broken bones were possible for both horse and rider. Of course, she attributed much of her success to the bay gelding she had as a mount. Hez Rockin Ten, or Rocko as she dubbed him, was a failed dressage prospect turned polo pony. She had leased him from his owner when she was nineteen and together they had found their passion and as his owner had once said- They didn't play: They danced. Rocko had always put his dressage training to excellent use and darted between the mallets in hot pursuit of the ball, never letting her get in harm's way. The mallets she and her team had used had only been a fourth of the size of that hammer and she had witnessed them shatter canon bones and fetlocks that were heavily wrapped and protected. Mallory gulped as she imagined the damage that maul could do and wisely decided to hang back and watch them for a bit before she announced her presence. Taking refuge behind a tree, she watched them while assessing if they were a threat or not.

A rugged but handsome man was shouting orders to two of the more brutish ones to position an overturned wagon as a barricade. They left a narrow passage for passersby, but blocked off the rest of the bridge. _I guess he's the leader. Looks like they are making a barricade of some sort. They must be guards! Maybe they are trying to protect the villagers from more of those monsters! Maybe they could help me? I've got to find shelter somewhere. And thank goodness they speak English! _Relief washed over her as she stepped out from behind the tree grateful to finally meet civilized beings. _Well, as civilized as one can get in a medieval society._ She thought as she approached them.

"Greetings… er.. good sirs." She spouted, trying to recall how Hollywood had always portrayed the Middle Ages and hoping she didn't sound like a complete idiot. "Perhaps, you could help me. I seem to be… out of my element. Could you tell me where I might find a… tavern… or inn?"

The leader turned towards her, hands on his hips as he assessed her. His men gathered around him, hands reaching for their weapons as the warily watched her every move. Mallory found herself wishing she had lugged the greatsword along, even if it was simply for show. She inched her hand closer to her dagger as inconspicuously as she could. They blocked the narrow entrance they had created with the carts. The brutish bald man's eyes bugled out of his head in alarm.

"She's a witch of the Wilds!" he stammered. "Look'a how's she dressed! She gonna turn us all into toads!" He looked nearly panicked as he drew his weapon, causing the others to shift uneasily on their feet. Only the leader remained calm, placating them with a simple gesture.

"Now, now boys." He stated coolly. "Let's not jump to conclusions here. After all, that's no way to treat a lady. Young miss, are you going to turn us into toads?"

Mallory blinked in confusion. _They seem on edge. Maybe they burn witches here? _She contemplated, thinking of her own world's sordid history with women accused of witchcraft._ Probably better stay away from that topic._ "I am certainly NOT. I seek refuge from the monsters in the woods. One of them attacked me. I'm cold, tired, and injured and I need help! So please either help me, point me in the direction of someone who can, or get out of my way."

The leader turned to his men, all of whom visibly relaxed. "You see, lads. She's not a witch. Just another refuge seeking shelter from the darkspawn. Now, let's give her a proper greeting."

He spread his arms wide, like he was going to hug her from a distance. "Welcome traveler. My associates and I are happy to welcome you to the town of Lothering. No doubt, you'll find aide at the local Chantry." He pointed to the stately building close to the edge of town. Mallory smiled graciously as she approached the barricade. "Thank you! I can't tell you what a relief it is to meet decent people. You would not believe the day I've had." She began to navigate around the men to the opening.

"Whoa! Whoa!" The leader said smugly. "I didn't say you could pass, now did I?"

The men gathered around Mallory, herding her away from the entrance and surrounding her. The two large brutes blocked off her exit while the leader and another stood in front of her. Mallory gaped in shock as she saw a body behind the nearest cart. It had been hidden from view until she passed the first wagon. The man was obviously recently killed since she hadn't smelled any decay. Blood splattered his plate mail, almost completely concealing the fiery sword etched on the front. She suddenly had a very bad feeling about these men. She stared down the leader, trying to exude confidence that she didn't feel. True, she had taken on that creature- darkspawn he had called it?- but that was more luck than skill. She was outmatched and outnumbered here.

"You're not guards, are you?" She asked dryly. Her question earned her a chuckle from the men.

"Guards? Hardly. No, my dear. We are but humble toll collectors. For you see, this is a toll bridge. If you want to pass, then you have to pay. Twenty silvers."

Mallory gave him a dead pan look. _Thieves. I should have known. _She gestured to her person. "Does it look like I have any money?" She asked him. "And if I did, where EXACTLY would I put it?!

The leader cocked his head examining her barely clad form. "True. I can see how carrying coin in that outfit would be difficult. That is not my problem, however. And this is not a charity. Men," he snapped his fingers. The two brutes behind Mallory roughly seized her arms. "She cannot pay the toll. Cast her to the darkspawn." They started to drag her back to the bridge entrance, away from Lothering.

_I will not survive another day out there in the woods, especially not with those things roaming about. I have to get into that town or I'm doomed._ "Wait! Wait!" She screamed, thinking fast. "Please! I have.. here!" She frantically waved her left hand to get his attention. "My wedding ring! It's very valuable. It's worth much more than silver is. Take it and let me pass."

The brutes stopped dragging her and awaited their leader's decision. He grabbed her hand and pried the simple platinum band from her finger. He held it up to the receding light and mulled it over. After a second, he threw it on the ground in disgust. Mallory was shocked when he stormed over and grabbed her by the hair.

"Do you take me for a fool?" He spat angrily in her face. "This nothing but steel."

"W..What?" Mallory stammered. "Are you joking? It's platinum. It's a hundred times more valuable than silver."

The leader sneered. "I've never heard of this platinum before. Silver or gold. That's the only thing that will get you across this bridge…unless." A wicked smile snuck across his face. "Unless, you have some OTHER way to pay." He looked her up and down suggestively.

A cold stone dropped into the pit of Mallory's stomach. Her eyes widened to the size of shields as she caught his meaning. "N..NO!" she screamed until a brute silenced her with his hand over her mouth. The men laughed as she began to struggle.

"Boys," the leader. "This woman has wasted our time. As we know, time is coin, so I say we make her pay for our time and her passage with a bit of sport! What say you?"

The men laughed darkly as the brutes forced her on the ground. Each secured a limb as the leader ripped off her meager clothing. He stripped her of her belt and after a quick glance at her dagger, tossed it aside as worthless. With a cruel smirk, he began to undo the laces on his breaches. Mallory struggled with all her might. She screamed at the top of her lungs through the brute's meaty fingers. _Why isn't anyone helping me?! Someone had to have seen this. Why aren't they coming!? _She wasn't sure if any of the villagers could hear her from this distance, but she realized if any did arrive to rescue her, it would be too late. The bandit leader positioned himself over her, ready to force himself inside of her. Panicking, she bit the hand of the man that silenced her. Warm blood flowed between her teeth as she tore out a hunk of flesh. The man howled and released her arm. The man holding leg darted in to pin down her arm again while his companion nursed his wounded right leg free, she viciously kicked the leader in the face with as much force as she could muster. She heard the satisfying snap of cartilage breaking as her iron clad heel connected with the bridge of his nose. Blood erupted from his mangled nose and spilled down his armor as he staggered back.

"You bitch!" he screamed, punching her in the face. The force of the blow sent her head reeling and she stopped struggling for a moment. "Tarlach!" he screamed at the pony tailed man holding her other leg. "Cease her struggling!" He then grabbed Mallory's leg and held it still on the cold stone as the blood flowed freely down his face.

Tarlach released her left leg and stood to his full height with his maul equipped. He brought the blunt weapon down with a mighty blow from overhead. It shattered Mallory's kneecap into a thousand tiny fragments. Shards of bone dug into her sinew and flesh sending shuddering waves of pain throughout her body. The sound it made was a sickening squelch of blood, bone and soft tissues being ground into a fine paste. Mallory gritted her teeth and fought through the pain, though her leg would no longer respond to her commands. It was agony, but no worse than what she had endured at the hands of Hybris.

"You hit like a girl!" She hissed through her teeth. She was rewarded with another blow to the face that slammed her head into the hard stone pavers. Dazed and only partially aware of what was going on; her mind retreated into itself as it had in all her torture sessions. She barely felt the leader force her legs apart and roughly enter her. Unbidden memories of the past surfaced. Some fresh, some long buried. All causing rage and anger at the injustice of the world to ice over her veins. _Her father breathing harshly in her ear. His beard chaffed her neck as he held her down and sated himself with her eleven year old body. The nauseating grunt of pleasure he would always make as he came. How he would kiss her head and tell her she was Daddy's girl every time. How she had bled for days the first time and he hadn't even given her a chance to heal before he had raped her again. How he had told he not to tell anyone because they wouldn't believe her. How it was her fault. The shock she felt when she had finally had the courage to tell her mother and she was called a liar. The sting of her mother's hand across her cheek as she slapped her daughter for making up stories. The resounding echo of the slap throughout the house as Mallory realized that everything her father had told her was true: that family meant nothing and people will believe what they chose too. How her mother had sent her back to him every summer until she was old enough to refuse._

The leader had finished his petty exertions and stood for the next man to take his place. The bald brute practically fell on her, slobbering as he forced his tongue down her throat. He was too big and she felt her insides tear as he thrust inside her. He roughly squeezed her breast in one giant hand, smearing blood across her chest. _The first time she met Rocko and had believed that she would be allowed some shred of happiness. How he loved her unconditionally. How nothing could touch her while she was on the field. All her past sorrows meant nothing in pursuit of that elusive ball. How she felt free and powerful. Then she met Justin. What she gave up for him to be a good wife. Justin informing her that it wasn't proper for to continue playing polo if they were trying for a baby. That it was too dangerous. He had convinced her to leave her passion behind just in case she conceived. Giving up her lease on Rocko to work two jobs so she could help buy a starter home for them. The night she cried herself to sleep when she found out Rocko's owner had sold him to someone in another state. The heart wrenching agony she felt when she realized she would never see him again. The feeling she had somehow betrayed him by letting him go._

The bald brute had finished and another bandit took his place. She tried to block out the sound of his grunting as her gorge rose, threatening to expel her stomach's contents. _The day the doctor told her conception was impossible because of the abuse she had endured. That she was damaged. The look on Justin's face as the doctor advised adoption since neither could afford the other expensive options that were not covered by insurance. The fact that he adamantly refused because it would not be a child of his blood. The curve of his lip turning into a faint sneer, like he blamed her for disrupting his plans. The night he betrayed her, making all she had sacrificed meaningless. After he had swore to honor and love her for better or for worse. How little his promises had meant to him in the end. How little she had meant to him._

Her rage continued to build as the man called Tarlach stepped up for his turn. Finding his maul to cumbersome to perform, he placed in on the ground next Mallory. She stared at the hammer as he violated her. She etched every detail in her mind. The twisting handle, the pointed pommel meant to deal out extra damage, and the claw-like grip that held a globe of red steel the size of her head. When he was through, he stood and turned his back on her to readjust his faulds. Rage flooded her being as she shook with fury not just at the violation, but his utter disregard of her as a person. How dare he turn his back on her as if she was nothing! The heavy maul was still where he left it. He obviously didn't think she was enough of a threat to retrieve it right away. He thought she was weak easy prey! He joined the others and they openly mocked her: laughing and clapping each other on the back like they were proud of their deed. It was the final straw of her sanity. Even Hybris had treated her like a person. He had given her a name, an identity, and recognized that she had a soul even if it was something he coveted. These men had treated her as nothing more than an object; A void to be filled and tossed aside devoid of her own wants, desires, and needs.

Without realizing what she was doing her hand found the grip of the maul. Her anger colored the world red as she hefted herself from the ground. She was furious. Furious at her father for abusing her. At Justin for betraying her; at Hybris for torturing her. Furious at these men for using her and above all, furious at herself. She had given up her power to others all her life. She had let fear make her decisions for her and listened to the judgments of society instead of her own heart. She had given up Rocko because she was supposed to get married and have a family. She had settled for Justin because she thought she was lucky that anyone could love her. She had let the lies of her father beat her down to the point she had forgotten how to fight. It wasn't until Hybris had pushed her to her limits that she had begun to push back. Through all the pain and suffering she had endured something beautiful had manifested: her. Mallory made a chioce. She would never again let anyone take power away from her. She ignored the screaming pain in her leg as she put weight on it. Pieces of bone broke though her flesh as they grated against every nerve. She used the agony to fuel her rage as she secured her grip on the handle. The adrenaline that rushed her through her veins caused the hammer to seem to weigh no more than her old polo mallet. The metal hummed quietly in her palms: a part of her, as if it was meant for her hands alone. The bandits were too busy boasting to notice her behind them. Mallory raised the maul over head and even without Rocko, she danced.

The first foreshot caught baldy in the cranium. His head exploded like a piece of over ripe fruit, showering the shocked bandits with bits of gray matter and flecks of skull. The second one didn't have time draw his weapon before she hooked his neck with the hammer head. Dragging him forward she off balanced him and delivered an upper cut with the maul as he tried to recover. Blood spattered her naked body as his jaw shattered sending teeth tinkling to the ground. He fell on the stone in a heap as she casually stepped over him. Tarlach had enough sense to get out her range and was scrambling to recover a crossbow from one of the wagons. Mallory ignored him, choosing to attack the bandit leader that had caused her misery. The leader was a better fighter than his brethren and had already armed himself.

"Eh.. Now, now lass. No hard feelings." he stammered. "We're just trying to make a living."

If Mallory heard him, she never gave any indication. She lunged at him with the maul. The bandit blocked the blow, though he grunted in surprise at the amount of force she put behind it. He deflected the blow and slashed at Mallory's midsection. The blade bit deep into her flesh, but she shrugged off the pain as if it was nothing. The look of surprise of the leader's face quickly became dread as she whipped around the pommel of the weapon and struck him in the chest with it. The pointed end punctured his chest and sent him crashing backwards. He landed with a thud, clutching his wound with one hand. Thrown from his hand, his blade skittered across the pavers and came to a rest on the other side of the bridge.

"Wait!" he screamed, throwing up his other hand in defense. "The crates behind the cart contains all of our gold. Take it! For the Maker's sake, just stop!"

Mallory didn't even glance to where he was pointing. In her singular pursuit to destroy the object of her rage, nothing else mattered but his death. She brought the hammer down on his groin despite his protests. A small smile graced her lips as the leather around his crotch darkened with blood and his voice rose a few octaves. The next few moments were a blur of savage glee as she beat the bandit to a pile of blood and lumpy tissues. She didn't stop until he was unrecognizable as a human being. She had just finished her final blow when she heard the cross bow bolt snap into place to the northwest of her artfully decorated position. Finally looking up from the remains of the leader, she saw Tarlach level the cross bow at her heart. Shaking from either fear or inexperience handling that type of weapon, he could barely keep his finger on the trigger.

"Stay back!" he ordered. Drops of sweat ran hastily down his brow. He licked his lips to quell his nerves unsure if one bolt would be enough to kill the deranged woman and more than certain he would not have time to load another.

Mallory stared him down without fear, too far gone in her bloodlust to realize the mortal danger she was in. She shook the various parts of body matter from her weapon. With a feral snarl, she launched herself at him. Tarlach's aim was thrown as an arrow caught him in the spine. His finger depressed the trigger, sending the bolt in a wide arc that caught Mallory high in the left arm. He fell to the ground after a second arrow pierced his neck, revealing a red headed woman in robes several paces behind him. Mallory finished him with a backshot that nearly tore the head from his shoulders. Danger neutralized, her adrenaline rush began to wear off. Mallory staggered as her body succumbed to the agony that the powerful chemical had been keeping at bay. She snarled as the woman approached, flanked by several armored men. Eyes darting from one potential enemy to another, she noticed that their armor was adorned by the same fiery sword that decorated the armor of the fallen man the bandits had killed. The robed woman slung her long bow back over her shoulder and slowly came towards her.

Fighting unconsciousness, Mallory fell to one knee as her life's blood poured from her wounds. The sound of her own rasping breath filled her ears as the woman approached closer with her palms out in a gesture of peace. Her mouth was moving, but Mallory's brain couldn't process what was being said at first. She growled at the woman in warning. Instead of reacting with fear as Mallory expected, the woman's eye reflected only understanding and a hint of pain.

"Shh.." She cooed in a strange French accent. "It's ok. You are safe now. They are all dead. I wont let anyone hurt you."

As she came closer, Mallory's weary eyes focused on the detail of the woman. Her hair, just a few shades redder than Mallory's, was cropped in a flattering bob just below her jaw line. A few single braid highlighted the delicate bone structure of her face. The ruddy robes that would have looked unflattering on most anyone hugged her voluptuous figure in a way that was sure to be sinful. The stylized golden sun that was stitched across her breast only emphasized her assets instead of detracting from them. Mallory watched her full lips move as she began to speak again.

"We will tend to your wounds." She whispered. "You are safe. I am Leliana. What is you name?"

Mallory fell to her side, unable to keep herself up right anymore. The anguish caused by her wounds was overwhelming her consciousness: she was losing the battle to stay awake. She dragged the hammer closer to her body, securing it with a death grip. They would have to pry it from her cold dead fingers before she parted with it.

"It's mine!" she said, delirious. "You...y-you can't have it! It's mine. It's made for me!"

Leliana gave her a small reassuring smile as she took another step closer. "Do not fret. I will make sure that it is by your side at all times. We are here to help you. What is your name?"

Mallory's eyes rolled back in her head as began to blackout. "Mallory..." she mumbled. "My..name .. is Mal-"

"Shhh," came a soft comforting voice. "You are safe now, Mallory. You can rest, for the Maker is watching over you." She felt a gentle touch on her forehead as if someone was caressing her in a soothing matter. It was the last sensation she felt as she succumbed to oblivion.


	4. If at first

Chapter 3

If at first...

Hybris sat on his throne, impatiently thrumming his taloned fingers on the armrest. His throne- if you could call it that- was a grotesque melding of bodies into mass of limbs and flesh stretched and shaped into a chair-like structure. The appendages and mass constantly shifted to accommodate his form. It was a living anamorphous piece of furniture comprised of flesh and bone. Various limbs protruded at odd angles as if trying to escape their fate. A face pressed out from the melted flesh: its mouth agape in a silent scream of horror. Hybris gestured his hand at some of the ambers shards on the floor. Like reversing time, they flew into the air and reformed into the familiar crystals that had once adorned the chamber.

"Still cleaning up the mess, I see?" Purred a sultry voice. Aphrodisia sauntered into view, her hips swaying with exaggeration.

Hybris snarled at her, flashing his many teeth in a display of ire. "Begone! I am in no mood to tolerate your presence."

Aphrodisia tsked, running her fingers across the twisted flesh of the throne. "Not like a mortal to get the best of you." She drawled in a mockingly innocent tone. "What a pity to have such a lovely collection destroyed."

Hybris roared at her, taking a swipe at her head with his razor sharp claws. The desire demon tittered and danced out of the way with little effort. She floated back as safe distance, swishing her tail playfully as she watched the pride demon rage. On a rampage, Hybris picked up his throne and ripped it asunder. Screams of pain issued forth from the carnage as the souls within writhed in agony. He tossed the pieces aside while a few limbs twitched in anguish, blood and tissues spilling onto the floor in a wide puddle.

"I'm surprised you haven't gone after her." Aphrodisia teased. "After everything she cost you, I would think vengeance was your priority."

Hybris growled at her in warning. A not so subtle reminder not to test his patience. "Do not toy with me, wench! Do you think I haven't tried to locate her? Once the spell I cast faltered, the Fade threw her somewhere in the waking world, out of my grasp! I have my thralls searching for her, but who knows where she ended up?"

"Poor Hybris. And after you expended all that energy to keep her here too. You should have known that your spells would deteriorate. Her realm has no magic."

Hybris ignored her and continued to repair his precious crystals.

"I would advise you to have patience, however, that has never been your strong point. All you have to do is wait. These mortals have the need to sleep. When her spirit returns to the Fade whist she dreams, she should be easy enough to locate then." She said stepping cruelly on a grasping hand from one of the torn pieces of throne. She dug her heel in smiling as it squirmed in distress.

"How fragile they are." She marveled. With a quick jerk of her heel, she broke two fingers with an audible snap. "Then you break her. Simple."

Hybris grumbled, reassembling another crystal. "Do you think me a fool? If it was that easy, I would have her already. The mages that have made a pact with me informed me of a day's passing outside the Fade. I kept her without sleep until her body quaked. She should have slept already. I should be able to sense her if she enters the Fade, but it's like she's hidden from me! Like something is masking her presence!" He smashed the crystal he had just finished putting back together. The shards fell silently on the stone floor.

"I was so close to breaking her! She would have been mine and my collection would have been complete!" He howled.

Aphrodisia smirked. "And now you have nothing. Foolish pride." She chided.

He whirled on her roaring like a rabid beast. His claws grasped only air as he raked the area she had previously stood.

She reappeared behind him with a smug grin. "Such passion. Do not fret. I will help you find her."

Hybris whirled on her, teeth bared inches from her face. "Don't patronize me! I do not require your assistance." The last word came out more like a hiss than and actual word. "You do nothing if it doesn't benefit you in some way."

Aphrodisia chuckled, sensuously running her hands over her voluptuous body. "True. It would be wondrous to be owed a favor by the great Hybris. Plus, you are forgetting... she stole that which was mine. A staff of that power is difficult to come by. I would reclaim it."

"Yes." He sneered. "YOUR staff that allowed her to destroy my collection." He lashed out with impossible speed, grabbing her arms and dragging her closer to his slavering maw. "The only favor you get from me is your continued existence. You'll find her and return her to me, or you'll take her place once I restore my crystals."

Aphrodisia just smiled slyly. "As you desire."

* * *

_There were thousands. Hundreds of thousands. She could feel them all, like tiny pinpricks of corruption moving underneath the earth. They were a pathogen plaguing the world for eras as they slowly consumed and destroyed everything they touched. She saw them all surge beneath the crust of the world. Torches and weapons illuminating the dark as they marched on and up. Oh gods! They were going up. Up to the world that shrank from their contact. _

_The darkspawn cheered: a wordless primal cry full of lust and destruction. They thrust their weapons skyward as their perverse god flew overhead. The dragon landed with a heavy thud on an exposed archway. The magnificent beast arched its neck and sent a jet of flame into the caverns. For a brilliant moment, it pierced the gloom, illuminating the awaiting horde below. The horde surged restlessly against the cavern walls the held them at bay, eager to spill blood. The dragon roared a command at them causing them to quicken their pace through the trenches towards the surface. _

_Urthemiel opened its mouth and screamed. The terrible din shook the very earth. Gods! Gods! It was talking to them! It called to her!_

"_Join…me…. Salvation … thru destruction."_

_In both her dream and the real world, Mallory screamed._

* * *

"Maker's breath!" a masculine voice stated in either shock or horror. "How was she able to stand!? It's a bloody mess."

"At least she stopped screaming," said a female voice with an accent. "Poor thing. She must have been through so much. Darkspawn and then bandits. It's a miracle she's alive."

"Where did she come from? The Wilds? There are no towns that far south that I know of. Just Ostagar and the Chasind. Maybe she's a barbarian?"

The voice's volume waivered as Mallory drifted in and out of consciousness. Still unable to open her eyes or move her body, she focused on the senses that were working. Sorta. Everything she experienced was hazy and filtered as if she was suspended in a body of water, floating just below the surface. She was lying on something hard and cold. Stone perhaps? No… wood. She felt the wood grain press into her skin. She was naked save some coverings protecting her modesty. There was… singing? Yes, singing of some sort… No. Not singing. Chanting. Like some New Age CD was being played in another room. Pain. There was pain. A great deal of it radiating from every inch of her body, especially her leg. Her leg. What did the voice mean it was a mess? What was a mess? She couldn't remember. Not quite. The memory darted from her mind like an elusive wisp. She tried to retrieve the memory and her consciousness lurched threatening to send her back to oblivion.

She felt a surge of panic as an unknown hand brushed her leg. It alarmed her enough to stop her head from swimming and give her something to refocus on. She felt a cooling sensation as something was spread upon her leg and abdomen. There was still pain, but it was subsiding. A strange almost minty smell wafted near her nostrils. Mallory's heart skipped a beat. Panic gripped her as she recalled the scent: The herbal mixture Hybris had forced her to drink. The smell was fainter, as if lesser potent, but the same tonic. For a second she was back in the Fade, fighting for her life. Her mind shuddered as she fought the overwhelming sense of fear and despair. _NO! NO! Not back there! Not with him! Please! _She saw him in her mind's eye, standing before her with his broken perverse smile as he proudly held up a bottle healing herbs. She felt nothing but dread as she anticipated the same ritual she had been forced to endure time and time again. Gritted her teeth, she waited for his fingers to roughly pry open her jaws and force the liquid down her throat. Unable to move and trapped in her own memory, Mallory whimpered in terror.

"Careful." The woman whispered in empathy. "She must be in so much pain."

"I never thought I'd actually say this, but I wish there was a mage about." Said the male. "With injuries this severe I doubt these lesser injury poultices will do little other than patch the wound. I'm not sure she'll ever be able to walk again."

"Have faith, Ser Maron. With the Maker's Grace she will recover. We will do the best we can with what we have."

"Of course, Sister Leliana."

"Besides, you don't want the Revered Mother hearing you say that." Leliana replied in a teasing manner.

Ser Maron swallowed a laugh at his companion's comment. With a gentle touch someone began to bandage her wounds. Mallory wanted to scream at them: tell them to stop touching her. Panic consumed her as she heard and registered the voices, but didn't want to believe they were real. _Don't fall for it! It's a trick! Hybris just conjured this… all of this to deceive you. The escape, the bandits, the rescue… everything was a lie! You're still stuck in the Fade. He's trying to break you. _Her shattered mind shouted at her. She tried to will her unresponsive body to move, but it ignored her commands. Her eyes were leaden and her limbs immobile. Her mind howled in frustration. _Focus! He's unaware that you know of this deception. Use is to your advantage and strike now! _

Taking a deep breath, she approached it from a different angle. Instead of focusing on her body as a whole, she concentrated on just her fingers on her right hand. Ignoring the bantering and ambient sounds around her, she willed her fingers to twitch. They moved less than a quarter of an inch. Another deep breath and another try. And again. Once more. This time splaying her fingers wide. As they came in contact with cold steel, she flinched. Reaching out again, she probed the object trying to discern what it was while her caretakers were oblivious. When her hand wrapped around the twisted hilt of the maul, she was filled with a sense of security. Though she did not immediately recognize the weapon as the one she used to kill the bandits, she knew what she had in her hand was dangerous. A sadistic glee filled her. She was going to make him bleed. For every drop of blood he spilt, she would return the favor. She focused all her anger, all her righteous fury. It made her blood boil as hatred and rage permeated every fiber of her being. It gave her power she otherwise didn't have. She waited for him to approach as she marshaled her strength and took short shallow breaths. There. A footstep. The shuffling of iron on stonework.

"Ser Maron, watch-"

The warning from the sister almost came too late. If not for the bright lights blinding her and the sister's forewarning, Mallory's swing would have taken the templar's head from his shoulders. Mallory sat up from the table they had laid her on and viciously struck at the nearest moving object. The blow missed the man's face by a thin margin, sending his tawny hair aflutter from the breeze generated by the hammer. Ser Maron staggered backwards in shock even as he reached for his sword. Too his surprise, Leliana placed a firm hand on his, pushing the blade back in the sheath. Mallory snarled at the vague blobby shapes that surrounded her. She blinked rapidly to try and refocus her eyes, but could only discern vague shapes and colors. Her grip on the maul tightened as one slowly approached.

"Stay back, demon!" She growled at the approaching figure. She maneuvered her legs around to the edge of the table and attempted to stand. When she put weight on her injured leg the pain was so fierce it nearly knocked her unconscious again. She screamed in agony and grabbed onto the table for support, careful not to lose her hold on her weapon. The sound of doors bursting open grated on her nerves, agitating her further. Two other figures entered the room, well armored by the sound of all the metal clanking.

"Sister Leliana! Is everything-"

"Everything's fine. Go back to your post."

Mallory shook her head trying to clear her vision. The figures sharpened a finally as her eyes adjusted to the light. She saw the two knights that had come in the room with their weapons drawn.

"Stay away!" She screamed. "I know your tricks! I'll never agree to your terms! Never!"

To emphasize her point she choked up on the handle and dared to take a step toward them. Without the support of the table, her leg gave way sending her crashing to the floor with a yowl. Panting and doing her best to ignore the agony, she snarled at them from the ground, intent on making a last stand.

"There's no need for that." Came the soothing voice of the one called Leliana. "These gentlemen were just leaving. Isn't that right?"

The first knight hesitated for a bit then retreated through the doors followed by the other one.

"You too, Ser Maron." Leliana said.

"But-"

Leliana made a shooing motion and the man called Ser Maron reluctantly went thru the doors as well. When the heavy Chantry doors clanked close, Leliana took another step towards the prone woman.

"Not another step!" Mallory hissed.

"Come now. There is no need for this." Leliana replied in soft, understanding tone. "I know you are hurting and confused, but we are here to help you. Do you remember the bridge?"

Mallory looked away, suddenly ashamed without understanding why.

"Shut up! Stop it!" she said. "None of your lies! None of your tricks!"

"It is not a lie, though I wish by the Maker's Grace it was. I saw those men… what they did to you. I'm sorry I could not reach you in time."

Flashes of memory resurfaced in her mind. Emotions and sensations came rushing back to her all at once. Their rough hands and harsh breath as they used her. The shame and humiliation she felt. The rage that had consumed her as they hurt her. The elation that she experienced as she put them down like dogs. She squeezed her eyes shut at the feeling of warm wet blood splattering her face as she killed them. It trickled down her cheek causing a single drop to fall on her hand. Mallory opened her eyes, surprised to see it wasn't blood, but a tear that had struck her palm. They streamed down her cheeks, unbidden. She startled a bit when she turned her head and saw Leliana kneeling a few inches away; she hadn't heard a sound as the women approached.

"Shh." The woman softly whispered. She fished a kerchief from her pocket and handed it to Mallory. Mallory gazed at it dumbly for a second before taking it from the Sister's outstretched hand. She dried her eyes with the cloth and returned it to Leliana.

"I-is this real?" She asked, not daring to hope. "Did t-that really happen?"

"Oh, you poor dear." Leliana said. "I am so sorry for what you have been through. Yes, it did happen, but you are safe now. Those men can no longer harm anyone."

"A-are they dead?" Mallory stammered, seeing visions of the maul crushing bone and sending the bandits flying. "All of them?"

"Yes."

"Good." Mallory stated her features hardening. Her fists tightened around the grip of her hammer. She had never taken a life before, but she would not waste regret on offal like them. If she hadn't killed them, they would have just hurt some else in her place. Another memory. A woman with a bow. Red hair that looked like live fire in the sunset. An arrow cutting through the air and ending a life that would have snuffed her own.

"It's Leliana, right?"

"Yes." She replied in her heavy accent. "And you are Mallory. You told me before you lost consciousness."

"Y-You.. you saved my life." Mallory looked at the woman in astonishment. Now that her vision had cleared, she could see she was still dressed in robes. The man had called her Sister. _Is she a nun? If so, where did she learn to shoot like that?_

"I didn't mean to attack your friend… I thought.." _I thought you were a demon trying to steal my soul. _She didn't dare finish her sentence, but let it trail off not knowing what else to say.

Leliana gave her a quick smile and offered her a hand up. "Think nothing of it. No harm done. Besides, you should have seen the look on his face when you sat up. He thought you wouldn't make it with your injuries, but me, I knew you were a fighter."

"I don't know about that." Mallory muttered, taking the sister's hand. The pain was excruciating as she hauled herself off the floor. She looked down in horror at the mangled mess that used to be her right knee. The flesh had healed, but severe scarring was evident. The knee was..off.. somehow. Like an abstract artist had played surgeon with her joint.

"My leg."

Leliana glanced down in sorrow. "I'm sorry. We did the best we could, but with the Darkspawn approaching supplies are limited if not nonexistent. Some kind soul donated a few poultices, but we had to use most of them on the wound in your stomach to save your life. Once we got that patched up, there was only one left to use on your leg. We were able stop the bleeding and close the wound, but it was too weak too fully heal the damage."

She gingerly tested it and was rewarded with further pain and a nauseating sound as bone grated on bone. _He said I'd never walk again. What if it's true? What if I spend the rest of my life crippled? _Fear gnawed at her stomach as she though about her injury._ No! I WILL walk again. I may limp, but I will not let it stop me! _Stopping her fear spiraling out of control, she resolved to recover her mobility no matter how much it hurt.

"You did more than most would. It would seem I owe you twice. I'm not quite sure how yet, but I will repay you… for your kindness and my life."

"Oh?" Leliana smirked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "While you are racking up debt with me, what else can I do for you?"

Mallory looked down at her naked body, still smeared with herbs though much of the blood and dirt had been removed.

"How much would a hot meal and a set of clothes set me back?"

She wasn't surprised when Leliana laughed. She was surprised, however, to find that after a few seconds, she laughed with her.

* * *

Mallory gritted her teeth as she forced herself to walk across the Chantry courtyard and over the stone bridge that led to the fields. She hiked up the hem of the Chantry robe Leliana gave her and focused on putting one leg before the other, ignoring the now familiar grating sound her knee made and the anguish that went with it. _Well, I won't be sneaking up on anyone anytime soon. _She thought with levity. The pain was still present, but not nearly as bad as when she had first started. Her first attempt had ended with her on the ground writhing in misery. It had taken many more tries and using her maul as a cane before she was able to walk a few feet. Thru will and determination alone, she spent the last few days acclimating to the injury and learning to walk without support. Now, her maul was firmly strapped on her back: a weapon and no longer a walking aid as she limped through town. She smiled as its weight shifted as she moved. It was a comforting feeling to have it with her, like having a guardian angel watching her back. She knew that such thoughts were silly, but having the weapon made her feel secure when the memories of her assault and torture resurfaced. Just holding the maul in her hand and knowing she had the ability to fight back gave her some peace, even if it didn't completely help. She never let it leave her side, even sleeping curled around the handle to try and keep the nightmares at bay.

Five days had passed since she had awoken naked and terrified in the Revered Mother's office after being tended to by Ser Maron and Leliana. Since then, she had spent her time doing what chores she could around the Chantry to earn her keep. Her last few days were spent cataloging the Revered Mother's personal collection of books and artifacts and preparing them for travel. Bit by bit, the templars were packing up the Chantry to escape the oncoming horde of Darkspawn. Mallory was shocked that her dreams as of late were relevant to actual events. She kept it to herself, but actively sought an explanation in the books that lined the Chantry's walls. In her free time she had poured over the many tomes, learning as much as she could about the world she was in. She had read about the Orlesian occupation, the Chant of Light, Ferelden history and culture, the mabari: she had even found a worn text stuffed between two bookshelves describing the fierce Qunari warriors. She was quite literally burning the midnight oil: sitting on her bedroll amidst the other refuges and reading until her single candle burnt out. What she couldn't find out by reading she subtly asked Leliana about. It was from her, she learned the Chantry's version of Darkspawn and their origins. She wisely choose to keep the details of her encounter with the Hurlock secret, afraid they would think she was blighted and refuse her shelter or aid.

She passed the local inn, Dane's Refuge, on the way to her destination. Casting a quick glance at the building, she made a mental note that Leliana was expecting her soon. They were going to meet for a drink there after she finished her task. A quick smile flitted across her face. She liked Leliana. The woman was as kind as she was beautiful, but it was her quick wit and charisma that impressed Mallory the most. When she spoke, the whole room listened rapt with attention. She told the most wonderful tales with such passion that it made you feel like you were witnessing the events described. And when she sang the Chant of Light. Her voice was so beautiful and melodious that some swore she was touched by their god, the Maker. They had become friends in a short time, almost like they shared some secret understanding. At first, it had alarmed Mallory. She had thought about deterring the woman from reaching out to her. She was too scared to trust anyone or let anybody too close. Leliana never pushed though and seemed to know when she needed to be alone. Through saving her life and helping her walk again, she they had slowly established an easy going relationship that was becoming a steadfast friendship.

Mallory's quite reflection was disturbed as she got closer to the prisoner. Two young boys were throwing rocks at the caged Qunari. The stoic giant just stood there as the rocks bounced off his chest. His eyes were closed as he recited something in a foreign language. A jagged rock struck his cheek drawing a thin line of blood down his chin as the boys snickered in delight.

"Hey!" Mallory yelled, quickening her pace despite the protesting of her knee. "Get out of here!"

The children took one look at her and ran screaming back to camp. "The Chasind Barbarian! Run! She'll smash us to bits."

Mallory rolled her eyes. Apparently some details of her encounter with the bandits were being spread around town and GREATLY exaggerated. Probably by the same jerks that were placing bets on when the Qunari would die of exposure. Almost overnight she had become the Chasind Barbarian. She had let it go, thinking it was better they believed she was from the Wilds then knowing the truth. She hadn't thought about the ramifications, though she was secretly pleased with them. It allowed her to ask questions without being scrutinized too hard. Also, the people thought she was dangerous and gave her wide berth. She preferred it that way since they made her tense but it caused some complications too. She had already had a heated argument with the templars about her maul. Apparently she made them nervous since she had nearly decapitated Ser Maron. They had ordered her to surrender her maul and that would have gotten very ugly if Leliana hadn't stepped in. Mallory sighed in frustration as she continued on her journey. She stopped in front of the cage and silently waited for him to finish his prayers- or whatever it was he was doing.

Sentenced to die by the Revered Mother for the unprovoked murder of two families, the strange man had been imprisoned and had lasted almost three weeks without food or water. Mallory had been appalled when Leliana had told her his story; both at his crimes and his treatment. While she believed in justice, leaving someone to die from the elements or be eaten by Darkspawn seemed a bit extreme. Then again, if she could do the same to Hybris she might have a different opinion on the matter. Once she was able to walk a reasonable distance, she had made it her personal mission to at least bring him water every day. It gave her a goal and forced her to walk without focusing on the pain, plus she was curious about him. She wanted to question him about what she had read about and the events that caused him to wind up in that prison. After a moment, the Qunari stopped his verse and sighed in exasperation at her presence.

"And you have returned." He said with his eyes still closed. "Why do you continue to vex me? Have you nothing better to do with your time?"

Mallory smirked. "I wasn't aware bringing you water was vexing? Shouldn't I be the one vexed since you have refused me twice now? And, yes. I do have other things to do. Like scare small children apparently. So, will you take the water so I can get back to that?" She thrust the cup forward waiting for him to take it.

The Qunari opened his eyes and snorted in frustration. "Parshaara! Do you never give up?"

"Not really, no. I'm told stubbornness is part of my charm."

"Charm? Hmm…Perhaps my grasp of your language is not as fluent as I believed. I thought that word had a different meaning than the context you are using it in." He muttered.

Mallory sighed and put the cup of water on the ground within reaching distance. She would return later in the evening to collect it, probably still full, just as she had done the last two days. This Qunari apparently had a death wish. He had refused to drink the water she brought each time though his lips were dry and chapped with thirst. Or maybe he hated charity? Who knew? She couldn't figure him out and every time she asked him questions he would deflect them or ignore her.

"You are a frustrating man, you know that?"

"Yes."

Mallory just stared at him in disbelief. She was five seconds away from throwing rocks at him as well. "Fine!" She threw her arms up in a gesture of futility. "I can lead a horse to water, but I can't make it drink."

He gave her an odd look. "I fail to see what livestock has to do with this."

"I- It's an idiom. Nevermind!" she sputtered in resignation motioning to the cup. "Water. Drink or not. Why do I even bother?"

She turned to go when he spoke to her.

"Why ARE you doing this? Surly your Chantry disapproves?"

Mallory crossed her arms over her chest and gave him an insulted stare. Truly, she had wondered that herself. The book she had found on the Qunari had been vague and obliviously written from a very biased perspective. She wasn't quite sure how much of it was to believe. It had mentioned them as being fearsome warriors with strict codes of honor. While she supposed concepts of honor could vary from one culture to another, something about his story didn't add up. According to Leliana, after the carnage, he hadn't fled or resisted in any way. He had waited to except his fate. Even now, she was sure those bars wouldn't restrain him if he really wanted to be free. It didn't make sense. She wanted to know more about him. She had never met another race other than the demons and her own, and given the most recent events, she wasn't too impressed with either species. There was more to it than that though. She could already feel herself spiraling into bitterness, hatred, and general paranoia; a natural response to the trauma and a means of self preservation. She wanted to close of her heart and cease any meaningful contact with anyone to protect herself. She was wary even of sweet and gentle Leliana. In her mind she constantly questioned the sister's motivations could not shake the feeling that she was hiding something from her. Mallory had hoped that doing even one act of kindness even if it was for someone that didn't deserve it, would restore some of her previous innocence. Of course, the stupid Qunari wasn't exactly cooperating and she was beginning to regret her decision. She had to admit she had never even fathomed that he may refuse her kind deed. In the end, she gave him the only answer she could. : The truth.

"I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do. Because this is who I am. I don't care what the Chantry thinks. I've spent most of my life listening to what others believe and I think it's time I thought for myself. Also, it's good exercise, both psychically and in futility it would seem. I wanted to learn more about you but apparently I'm a masochist for continuing this conversation. There! I've answered your question. How about answering one of mine? What's your name? Why did you wait for the guards to arrest you? Why didn't you resist when they did? Why are you still in that cage? Why not bend the bars and escape? Why didn't you run when you had the chance?"

"To what end? Perhaps the better question is why are you not caged? These people seem just as afraid of you as they are of me."

Mallory looked down at her crippled leg. She thought about all the imitations it set for her. All the things she would never be able to do again without pain or resurfacing memories of how the injury occurred. How everyone who saw her limp would either consider her weak or pity her. People would doubt her capabilities or overlook her for simple tasks. One event would shape her life and her future forever.

"Who says I'm not?" She replied as she began to limp away. "Not all cages are made of steel."

She got about half way to the inn before he decided to respond.

"I am Sten of the Beresaad." He shouted proudly, his deep baritone voice resonating in the air.

Mallory stopped in her tracks for a moment. She turned to Sten and gave him a respectful nod of acknowledgement before continuing on her way with a victorious smile on her lips.

* * *

Alim Surana looked over the quaint town called Lothering with disgust. It was bad enough he had to traipse through the woodlands for a week with that idiot Alistair in tow, but now he had to go through this hovel too! He shot a passing glance at the dark beauty at his side. As cruel as she was powerful, Morrigan had made the trek less of a burden, especially with her interesting taste in clothing. His eyes discreetly traced the curve of her breast as she watched the road behind them. He sneered in loathing as he heard his lumbering templar companion finally catch up to them. Alistair jogged unsteadily towards them followed by that mongrel that insisted on trailing them even after Alim had tried to chase it off.

"If I didn't know any better," Alistair panted running up to Alim's side. "I'd think you were trying to leave me behind."

The mabari gave Alistair an "are you daft?" stare and barked.

Morrigan cackled sadistically. "We now have a dog and Alistair is still the dumbest one in the party."

"Heyyyyy.." Alistair whined, causing Alim to contemplate setting him on fire.

As Morrigan and Alistair swapped insults, Alim lost himself in his thoughts. _Eh.. two dogs nipping at my heels that I can't get rid of. Why did I leave the Kinloch Hold again? Oh.. yeah! Because that idiot Jowan had to fling all the templars about with blood magic and get me involved in his romantic drivel. _Alim groaned internally at the memory of his so called friend. He had never much cared for Jowan, finding him far too cowardly and insipid. He tolerated the younger mage's presence merely because he liked having a personal errand boy and someone that practically worshipped the ground he walked on. As the years passed, Alim's talent had grown while Jowan had barely passed his tests. Just before his Harrowing, he had tried to rid himself of the apprentice, but like fleas on a dog Jowan clung desperately to a friendship that didn't exist. It had been such a relief for Alim to pass his Harrowing since it meant moving to the senior mage quarters and leaving Jowan behind.

Much to his surprise, Jowan had shown more mettle than he had originally believed possible. After having an illicit affair with a Chantry initiate -which was strictly forbidden- Jowan finally grew a pair and wanted to escape the Circle with his love. While Alim shared none of his friend's sentimental views, he could not deny the boldness of the plan. That and the desire not to become Tranquil. Jowan had approached Alim begging him for assistance in escaping. Of course, Alim had turned right around and told First Enchanter Irving in the hopes of elevating him status among the Circle. He was quite taken aback when Irving actually ordered him to HELP Jowan's escape attempt. So, he had done as he was told, if for nothing more than to be rid of Jowan once and for all. It was no surprise when they opened the basement doors to find a contingent of templars waiting for them. What DID surprise Alim was the fact that Jowan actually was a blood mage. The sheer raw power of his magic trumped anything Alim had ever known. With just a cut of his hand, Jowan had made fools of the templars and had them cowering on the tower floor. He had to admit, that display of power was both impressive and inspired a great deal of envy within him. Alim had studied diligently for years to hone his talent and to have Jowan of all people become more powerful than he was- well, it just added insult on injury. Imagine, being jealous of Jowan!

In the end, it hadn't quite worked out the way he had planned. Instead of being awarded with an elevated rank, more power, and special lessons, Alim had been forced into service with the Grey Wardens. That in itself had been a disaster. Due to a traitor within the King's ranks, all of the Wardens in Ferelden had been slaughtered in the battle of Ostagar except himself and Alistair. Since Alistair was a bumbling idiot with no spine, it left Alim to clean up a mess that he didn't care about with another Jowan-esk tag-a-long he resented more than the original. Alim groaned as the templar man-child whined about the loss of his mentor again. What was his name again? Doogan? Duncan? What ever his name had been it was irrelevant now: the man was Darkspawn fodder.

"Morrigan's right. He's dead. Get over it." Alim stated curtly, cutting off another whine from Alistair.

The templar managed look shocked, offended, and angry almost all at once. It was all Alim could do not to laugh in his face as the red rushed to Alistair cheeks making him appear like a disgruntled cherub.

"Well, then. What do YOU think we should do, Oh Great Leader?" Alistair said sarcastically.

"Why must I do anything? You're the Grey Warden here, not me. I'm just a victim of circumstance. I don't want to do any of this."

"Well, don't look at me. I don't know what to do!"

"Why am I not surprised?" Alim sighed. He turned his back on Alistair signaling the conversation was over. "Come, let's check out that horrid little inn first. I require a bath. I'm filthy. Though looking at this place, perhaps they do not even know what a bath is."

Morrigan chuckled at his comment and fell into step beside him. Alistair and the dog took their places in the rear of the party. They strode through the town looking very out of place. Everywhere Alim looked he saw nothing but weak, pathetic people that relied on others to support them. _How do they survive? How do they even defend themselves? _He wondered as he watched them scamper around like rodents.

"Ah, look how they moan and wail and gnash their teeth. 'Tis sad to watch how helplessly they scurry about." Morrigan observed, echoing his thoughts.

"You know," Alistair uttered thru gritted teeth. "These are good people that are trying to survive. They have lost everything. You could be a bit more sympathetic."

Alim and Morrigan shared a glance. Alim smirked wickedly. "We could, but why should we? If they were so concerned about their safety, they should have been born mages. At least then they wouldn't have to rely on others for protection."

Alim could almost hear Alistair's templar training kick in as he and Morrigan shared private laugh.

"Now see here-" Alistair began as a templar stepped in front of the party, blocking their way.

"You'll find no shelter here. We are full." The templar resounded in a tinny voice from the slit in his helmet. Standing in full plate mail, he seemed an imposing statue set to guard the villagers from harm. Of course, Alim wasn't impressed. He found full plate to be an excellent conductor of electricity and knew he could fry the templar in three seconds flat with his lightening.

"You would deny us entry?" he sneered haughtily. "Do not worry. I have no intention of staying in this squalor any longer than necessary. And I am fairly certain you people have nothing I want OR need."

The templar sighed and shook his head. "Very well, just stay out of trouble."

Alim brushed past him indignantly as they headed for the inn. He waited until he was just out of ear shot of the templar before he replied to himself.

"It's far too late for that warning."

* * *

"Mallory!"

Leliana waved earnestly as Mallory entered Dane's Refuge. Mallory was glad she did, otherwise she may have never found her among the crowd. As usual, the bar was packed solid with refuges, bards, Chantry members and mercenaries. She was somewhat relieved when everyone gave her wide berth: quickly parting before her like she had the plague. _Maybe I do. _She thought recalling the black blood that the Hurlock had soaked her with. Too disturbed by that thought, she pushed it away and forced a smile as she made her way to the bar.

Raucous laughter broke out from a group of men at a nearby table, drawing her gaze. The men were well armed and bore the crest of some Teyrn or another and were slamming down drinks faster than Danal could replace them. Mallory watched them for a moment, noticing how they kept glancing at the door and were pouring over some sort of missive they had weighted down with empty glasses. She took a quick peek as she waited for the bartender to get to her. From what she could tell, it vaguely resembled a wanted poster sporting the sketch of a dark haired elf. Mallory wasn't sure exactly what it meant, but by the tension in the air she guessed they were trouble.

"Too Loghain!" They toasted loudly. They clashed their drinks together with such force, ale splattered all over the table and dripped on the floor.

"Sodding ox lovers." Danal muttered under his breath as he took his place behind bar. He gathered up some of the empty mugs and began scrubbing them with a questionable looking rag. The broad smile he gave her as she approached was nearly overwhelmed by his handlebar mustache.

"Well, well. If it isn't the Chasind Barbarian?! What can I get you?"

She gave him a scornful glare. "Don't start Danal. Just an ale, if you please."

He winked at her and poured her an ale from the tap, setting it in front of her when she was done. She fished out the two coppers she had found while sweeping the Chantry floor this morning and slid them across the bar top as another burst laughter erupted behind her causing her to flinch involuntarily. _Why did I agree to this? There are too many people and they are too close to me. Too close to touching me. It's too loud. I'm too vulnerable here. I shouldn't be here… _She took a deep breath and a quick swig of her ale to try and rein in her escalating anxiety. She reached out and touched the hilt of her maul, comforted by its presence.

"Careful with your weapon, lass." Danal whispered as he noticed her reaching for it. "Those are Loghain's men and they are looking for a fight. No doubt searchin for any Grey Warden stragglers that survived Ostagar. The Teryn put a bounty on their heads."

_Why would he put a bounty on the Grey Wardens? _Mallory puzzled. From everything she had read and been told, the Grey Wardens were people that sacrificed their lives to stop the Darkspawn. All of the lore she had read portrayed them as noble warriors that stayed out of politics and brought people together to fight Blights that would otherwise ravage the lands.

"A bounty on the Wardens? Why?"

"Said it was they who betrayed the King and left em to die at Ostagar. I don't believe a word of it. My grandfather served and there was never a more honorable group of men and women then the Wardens." He replied gruffly. "Just be cautious lass. They are seasoned warriors, not bandits."

"Thanks."

Mallory finished her ale in a long gulp, shuddering as she slammed her mug down on the bar. This stuff wasn't like any draft back home and burned like hard liquor on the way down. It tasted strongly of hops and yeast and smelled like urine. The fact that it was room temperature didn't help its flavor either. She shifted her focus to Leliana who was also watching the group. Leliana stood with her back to the wall nursing ale that had long ago gone flat. She greeted had Mallory with enthusiasm, but the glint in her eye made it apparent something was up. She smiled warmly as Mallory joined her at the back wall.

"I am glad you came." She said in that exotic accent of hers. _Orlesian. _Mallory self corrected. She still had a hard time not thinking of it as French.

"Worried I wouldn't show and leave my hero all by herself?" Mallory teased.

Leliana scoffed in mock horror. "You wouldn't dare."

"Possibly." Mallory shrugged noncommittally. She wasn't able to stop the smile from sneaking across her face.

"You know, it is good to see you smile." Leliana replied taking a sip of her ale. "It is amazing how we can find the will to smile even amidst all this sorrow. Maker be praised."

Mallory just nodded politely. While she didn't necessarily believe in the Maker, she wasn't going to be disrespectful about Leliana's beliefs. She hadn't believed in the gods in her world and had no proof that this Maker existed here. It was interesting that a lot of the lore was similar to Christian lore. The sacrifice and martyrdom of an outspoken rebel who tried to free the people. It had made Mallory wonder about alternate realities and dimensions to the point it made her head hurt. She decided she would just go with the flow. After all, this world did have magic, so a benevolent magical man in the sky seemed a little more plausible here then on Earth. If the Maker did exist, however, and he left her at the mercy of Hybris… well, if they ever did meet, Mallory fully intended to have a lengthy discussion with him.

"Any luck with the Qunari?"

"I got his name. Sten of the Beresaad. A soldier in their army from what I have read. Didn't get much more out of him, other than the beginnings of a headache. He still refused the water I brought him."

"It speaks well of you that you tried. Most would not. You are a good person."

Mallory shrugged. She didn't feel like a good person. She felt angry at the world, hurt, and distrustful of everyone. Part of her wanted to be a decent human being while the other wanted to strike out at people to have them feel her pain. She felt torn between the person she had been and the one she was becoming. Even her desire to help the Qunari had been motivated by the selfish need to prove she was still human in some way.

"I- There's something I wanted to discuss with you. I know we have not known each other long, but I think I can trust you with this." She trailed off and fidgeted with her robe. Mallory raised an eyebrow at this. In the short time she had known Leliana she had never once seen the woman struggle with words. Whatever it was, it must be something tremendous to affect her so.

"I think the Maker wants me to help stop the Blight." She spoke with finality. "I-I know this sounds crazy, but I had a vision."

Mallory gave her a skeptical look thinking her leg was being pulled. Nothing but sincerity was evident on her features.

"You want to stop the Blight? How?"

Leliana smiled wistfully. "I don't know. The Maker, he works in mysterious ways. I tried to talk to the others, but they laughed at me. But you are not like them. I know you will believe me."

Mallory sighed. Talk about: _Hey I just met, and this is crazy. Is she serious? She can't be..right? Isn't that a bit egotistical to think a god would pick you out of all the people of the world. Not that I'm sure getting messages from the Maker is a blessing. Didn't the last person who claimed that get burned alive? Arhhhh.. don't be disrespectful. She saved my life. I owe her. Even if it is crazy, she believes in it. Just tell her you'll help her, even if you have no idea how. You owe her that much._

"Well... will figure something out. No worries."

The relief on Leliana's face only lasted a second as the door to Dane's Refuge slammed open. Both turned to see who was responsible for the ruckus. In stepped an elf looking suspiciously like the sketch she had spied on the missive. His cheek bones were set high in his regally angled face giving him a rather haughty appearance. His charcoal colored hair was long and sleek, held back by two braids that framed his face. He was dressed in some ornate robes that look like they had seen better days and were now streaked with mud, what appeared to be blood, and had leaves sticking to the hem. He had three companions flanking him: a dark haired scantly clad woman, a baby faced man with a shield, and a large dog Mallory suspected was a marbari.

The elf walked over the threshold and loudly proclaimed. "Innkeeper! I require your best room and a bath in all haste!"

Every patron froze as his voice rolled over the crowd. They all stared at the newcomer: some with shock, some with amusement, and a few very angry. That was all Mallory was able to absorb before Loghain's men stepped forth and all hell broke loose.

* * *

"You may not want to go in there." The refuge stated, thumbing the door to Dane's Refuge. "Loghain's men have been tearing the place up looking for any surviving Wardens. Seems there's a hefty bounty for anyone who brings a Warden head back to Denerim. Over a hundred gold. Grief and fear have drove many a folk insane lately. Everyone's taking what they can to live without much to who gets hurt."

Alim sneered at the man. He hadn't asked for this fool's opinion. He had taken the most direct route to the inn specifically to avoid contact with these urchins.

"I go where I please." He snarled at the man.

"Kay. Don't say I didn't warn ya."

The refuge shrugged as Alim threw open the inn door. It banged loudly against the wall as the party entered the dingy room. Alim assessed the inn and frowned. It was not to his standards at all. Far too crowded, dirty, and full of rabble but he was tired, filthy, and his feet hurt so it would have to do. Walking for long distances was not done in the tower unless you wanted to go in circles and he had not adapted yet. He was fairly certain he was getting blisters.

"Innkeeper! I require your best room and a bath in all haste!" He shouted loudly unwilling to wade into the sea of peasants to find the innkeeper.

The bards at the top of the stairs stopped playing and the constant din tapered off until only the shuffling of feet and the occasional cough could be heard. A group of surly looking men got up from the nearest table and advanced on the party. A stout human male stood in front of Alim and gave him a once over.

"Well, look what we have here men. I think we've just been blessed."

"Uh oh, Loghain's men. Not good." Alistair muttered. Alim ignored him as he was prone to do.

"Ah, you must be the proprietor of this dump. I want your best room for myself and my lovely companion here. Ready a hot bath and the finest meal you have, not this slop you are serving everyone else." Alim indicated to Morrigan then glanced at Alistair as almost an afterthought. "Oh...yeah.. him.. and I guess get him a pallet on the kitchen floor or something."

"Hey, isn't this the elf we spent all morning looking for? And everyone said they hadn't seen em?" asked one soldier.

"Hmm.. looks like we were lied to." the commander stated.

Alim was about to say something when a gorgeous redhead walked up, interrupting his thoughts. She was trailed by a taller homely looking woman dressed in similar robes that had a maul awkwardly strapped on her back.

"Gentlemen, there's no need for trouble. These are just more refuges seeking shelter from the darkspawn."

"Stay out of this Sister, unless you wish to die like these traitors."

"Traitors?" Alim asked in an amused tone. "Perhaps they do not teach soldiers the proper definitions of words in the barracks? Just have to know which end of the sword goes into the other person, eh? I'll give you a tip. It's the pointy one."

"Silence cur! I was at Ostagar. If not for the teryn, we would have fallen with the King! I serve him gladly!"

"And yet here you are, ready to throw your life away on a fight you can't possibly win. How admirable! Tell me, is it a strategy of Loghain to save his enemies the trouble and have his men fall upon their own swords? Some kind of psychological tactic? Perhaps to confuse the enemy?"

"Enough!" The commander bellowed drawing his weapon. "Take the Warden into custody and kill anyone who interferes."

"Announcing that you are going to attack and losing the element of surprise." Alim jested, letting lose the fireball he had been preparing while the fool spoke. "Another impressive tactic from Loghain no doubt. It's a wonder it only took a centaury to expel the Orlesians."

The soldiers screamed as the magical fire rolled out of Alim's fingertips, consuming everything in its path. The commander was set ablaze instantly as the flames roiled over his scale armor fusing some of the pieces together. Despite the pain, he took an impressive swing at Alim that just missed the mage.

"Watch the spells!" Alistair screeched, bashing another soldier with his shield. "You could hurt a bystander!"

Alim rolled his eyes as he cast another fireball. Some collateral damage was anticipated in times of war and he certainly wasn't going to hold back because a few civilians might get hurt. Morrigan cast a hex on the next man that assaulted her while Dog latched onto his leg and gave it a vicious shake. Alim had just enough time to be surprised that the two redheads had joined the fray, before one of the soldiers broke from the formation and rush him. Bored now, Alim cast lightening and watched with glee as the blue arcs of electricity danced over the warrior's armor and caused his muscles to spasm. He was too busy enjoying watching the man squirm to see notice another man had flanked him. The pommel struck the Warden in the back of the neck, sending his staff flying from his hand and knocking him prone on the dirty floor. The soldier raised his blade to decapitate him when the head of the maul landed squarely in his back. The blow snapped his spine causing him to drop the sword and fall over almost on top of Alim. Alim scrambled out of the way and regained his footing, surveying the battlefield. The shorter Sister had just thrown a handful of dust into the eyes of one soldier and backstabed him in the kidney. The commander had finally put out the flames and was advancing on her. Just as he got within striking distance, the body of one of his men flew through the air and crashed into him sending him sprawling.

"Fore!" screamed the muscular woman, a crazed look on her face as she swung her maul around with abandon.

"Enough!" The pinned commander yelled. Most of his men were dead or too badly wounded to fight. "I yield! I yield!"

Alim retrieved his staff and pointed at the commanders face. A cruel smile spread across his thin lips as he reached within himself, summoning the mana he would require to burn the man to a pile of ash.

"Good," Said the Sister. "They have learned their lesson and we can stop fighting now. The Maker would grant mercy to his enemies."

Alim's grin grew exponentially. He did so love sacrilege.

"Good thing I'm not the Maker." He replied as he torched the commander. The smell of burning hair and flesh lingered long after his screams faded and there was nothing but a pile of ash on the charred floorboards.

"I-I suppose that was necessary." The Sister stammered as she gazed sorrowfully at the man's blackened remains. "May you go with peace back to the Maker."

"Necessity had nothing to do with it." Alim sneered. "Mercy is for the weak."

"I see." She replied. "I am Leliana. I know who you are. You're a Grey Warden, aren't you? You will be battling the darkspawn, yes? I am here to join your fight."

"Yes, yes. I'm glad I was able to save you. You may address me as Alim if you must." Alim replied arrogantly.

"Save me? I think I was able to handle myself."

"Whatever makes you feel better, honey. Where DID a Lay Sister learn to fight like that anyways."

"I was not always a Lay Sister. In Orlais I was a bard and traveled for long periods of time. One learns to defend oneself on the road, no? I am here to help you defeat the Blight. I wish to join you."

Alim raised an eyebrow. "Join me? Why would I want you to join me?"

"I can fight." She replied. "A-and there is more.. I.. the Maker wants me to help you."

"The Maker?" Alim asked dryly. "He, what.. told you to stop the Blight?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but I had a .. dream.. a vision! He wants me to help."

"Tis crazy," Morrigan replied. "Perception verses reality are two very different things.

Alistair shook his head glancing at the two mages. "I think we have plenty of crazy already."

"Look at the people here. They are lost to despair. The Maker doesn't want this. You are doing the Maker's work. Let me help!" Leliana begged.

Alim gave her a quick assessment. True, she did she to posse some skill with the blade and she was easy on the eyes. There was something mysterious about her and they way her azure eyes darted around the room taking everything in all at once. Alim may have taken her just as a bed warmer if it wasn't for the sanctimonious Chantry drivel she uttered. After all, having two lovely ladies in his party would be nothing to complain about, but Alistair was already preached more than the Grand Cleric and he didn't think he could tolerate another goody two shoes in the party. So, he did what he did best. He lied.

"Oh.. no. I'm terribly sorry. Those men were mistaken. I'm not a Grey Warden."

Leliana looked so crestfallen, Alim had to bite his tongue to keep his composure. Her large friend but a hand on her shoulder and scowled at him quite openly.

"Oh.. I-I thought. I-I'm sorry to trouble you then. My mistake."

"Yes, yes. Well, no harm done." Alim said, ushering the others out the door. "We all make mistakes. Well, we simply must be going. Darkspawn to evade and all."

He could not slam the door fast enough behind him. Outside, the sun was slowly descending, signally the end of another day to come. "I can't believe I actually miss the hold. Let's get out of here. The people in this town are insane."

When they had walked just out of earshot, he could have sworn he heard that smart ass refuge say. "Told ya."


	5. Joining

Chapter 4

Joining

"He lied." Mallory stated as the inn door slammed shut. _So that's a Grey Warden, huh? Not what I was expecting. _She looked at the still smoking remains of the commander. _He didn't even let him surrender. No mercy at all. He seemed really pompous too. And arrogant. Well, just goes to show you can't believe everything you read. Just think, though. The fate of Ferelden is in that jerk's hands. This place isn't even my world and I feel sorry for it._

"I saw the missive. That was defiantly him."

"I know." Leliana said sadly. "He must have had his reasons. After all, look at how many people have already tried to kill him. I understand. I guess as long as he is doing the Maker's work…"

"Oh no. Not acceptable. Come on!" Mallory said firmly. _That Warden was a sadist. I saw the way his face looked as he burned that man alive. He enjoyed it. I know that smile. It's the same one Hybris wore any time he tortured me. If he's one of the few Wardens left, then this world is in trouble. I may not know Leliana that well, but I know she's a good person. Her faith is strong and she does believe in doing the Maker's work. Leliana needs to be there to act as a moral compass to that man. Otherwise, who knows what disaster will befall Ferelden. He may even hand over Ferelden to the archdemon. _She grabbed her friend's hand and pulled her to the back of the inn towards the back door. The bards had begun playing again and new, excited conversations were a buzz as they made their way towards the back door.

"Mallory?! What?-"

"We've got to cut them off! They are not leaving town without you! Come on!"

Hobbling as fast as she could and attempting to ignore the stabbing pain, Mallory pushed the door open and cut through the wheat field that lined the backside of the building. Once outside, she let go of Leliana and searched for the party over the tops of the thick grain. Sten was still in his cage, undisturbed and doing Qunari things. She was grateful the Warden mage hadn't set him on fire for sport- something she wouldn't put past him given what she had seen in the inn. She waded thru the grain desperately searching. There! A dog bark resounded in the air. Past the windmill and going around the bend towards the bridge out of town. She took off as fast as her injured leg would allow and diagonally ran through the field towards the other side of the hill.

"Watch the traps!" Leliana shouted, guiding her friend out of harms way as she nearly ran into one of Barlin's leg snares.

"Thanks." She replied as she circumnavigated the dangerous trap. The last thing she needed to do was damage her other leg. Mallory huffed as she focused on her strange one legged sprint. It was more of a skip than a proper run. She had to circle her injured leg out from her body to minimize the impact. It still hurt like hell and she could only move at about half of her former speed, but it worked. She motioned to Leliana not to wait for her and after a quick nod the bard darted ahead. The sound of battle reached Mallory's ears as Leliana disappeared behind the dune.

By the time she arrived, the party was already deeply mired in battle with a rag tag bunch of civilians. Without hardly any armor or tactics, the civilians were swarming the group. Only a few had weapons or armor and most were using their fists to try and beat the Warden into submission. Mallory watched as the mage electrocuted an unarmed man to death. Falling to the ground, he convulsed as his eyes rolled back in his head. The elf laughed, thoroughly enjoying the slaughter. Even Leliana seemed unsure of what side to fight on, throwing a torn look in Mallory's direction. The civilians never stood a chance. Mallory was uncertain if it was desperation that drove them to attack the Warden or if he committed some trespass against them. She didn't have much time to consider, for some of them noticed her and attacked her openly. They were matched in inexperience as far as combat, but Mallory knew her weapon better. With skill honed from years of hitting a tiny ball across the polo field, she smashed the hand of the nearest one wielding a rusty sword. He dropped his weapon with a yowl, cradling his broken hand to his body. As he fell back, one of his comrades took his place, swinging at her with a club. Her injured leg shrieked in protest as she tried to skitter away from the blow. Unable to move fast enough, she took the blow to her ribs, grunting as it bruised the tender flesh under her robes. The pain radiated from her wounds consuming her with rage. Shrugging off the injury, she smashed the assailant in the face with the head of her hammer. He fell backwards knocked out cold with a stream of blood trickling down his lips.

The battle was over before it began with all of the men either dead or incapacitated. Leliana put away her bow and approached her friend. Mallory was standing very still over the unconscious body of one of the attackers. She was about to call to her when she noticed her friend's face contorted with rage. Mallory had her teeth bared and eyes closed as she struggled to reign in her fury. All of her will was focused on restraining her temper and not pulverizing the man that lay prone before her. He had caused her pain! Had hurt her! Part of her strongly wanted him to hurt too. His face kept morphing to that of the men on the bridge, fueling her rage even further. Even through the rage, she preserved a some small portion of her former self. A small voice in the back of her mind telling her to let it go and not become the thing she despised. Leliana hung back as the warrior took a few deep breaths and slowly returned to the woman she knew. After a final controlled exhalation, Mallory returned her maul to its place on her back and joined her friend.

The elven mage sighed in exasperation. "You again? What do you want now?"

"I know why you lied." Leliana began. She looked at the bodies that littered the earth. "You obviously have many enemies. It is wise that you are cautious. I can help. Let me come with you."

"She seems sincere, even if what she says seems a bit odd." Stated the younger man with the chiseled jaw line. "Perhaps we should have her accompany us? Maybe she could help?"

The mabari barked in agreement.

The mage gave them both a sour look. "I don't recall asking your opinion, dog. Or yours either, mabari. Last time I checked, I was in charge. That means I make the decision and you just do what I tell you. I don't need the wench. She's not coming. Let's go."

Mallory had heard enough. She stepped forward menacingly, her temper flaring up again. "There will be others that via for your life. You have an entire horde of Darkspawn to face coupled with Loghain and his allies. You are a fool to turn down help. How long do you think you will last?"

The mage sneered. "You think I'm some weak pathetic creature? I AM A MAGE! There is no man in this world that is more powerful than I."

"I'm not talking about some poorly equipped civilians. I'm referring to the entire army that the new regent will undoubtedly send after you. Even you couldn't defeat an army by yourself."

Leliana nodded confidently. "Mallory is correct. You are going to need all the help you can get."

The elf began to walk around them towards the bridge out of town. "Once Loghain realizes I'm not a threat to his throne, he will leave me be. Every one just assumes I am here to stop the dreaded Blight. I didn't ask to be a Warden, you know. I was forced into this. I'm not sure this even is a Blight. I have yet to see this archdemon and the only ones that swore there was one are now dead, including that idiot king. Alistair and I are the last Wardens in all of Ferelden. If the archdemon is around, do you really think we can take it on and survive? Even with your help? If you do, then you are madder than I initially thought."

Mallory shook her head in disdain. _How arrogant and foolish can you be? He's not even going to try to stop the Blight. He doesn't even fathom that it's not just his neck on the line, but that of all the country. He only cares about his own skin though he doesn't seem to realize how much danger he's actually in. This has to be a Blight. I can't explain why- the dreams maybe- but I know it is. This whole country is about to be overrun by walking corpses and all he can think about is his own petty issues. _The young man he called Alistair did not appear happy with the situation either. Lips pressed into a grim line, he balled up his fists as if restraining himself from hitting the elf upside his head. He gave Mallory an odd look of sorrow, regret, and frustration as if he too was powerless to stop him. _Why isn't he doing anything? He obviously doesn't agree with him. Isn't he a Warden too? How can he just blindly go along with him? _There was a time in her life when she would have just bowed her head and stood aside. She would have said it wasn't her fight and walked away. Something in her had changed. She thought about that creature that had attacked her. Supposedly there were thousands of them approaching. Hundreds of thousands. In her mind she saw them swarming the land as they had in her dreams, consuming everything and corrupting what they left behind. They left the earth poisoned where crops could no longer grow. The tree grew leafless and twisted and the remaining animals became cruel imitations of their former selves. The monsters dragged people underground, eating the less fortunate as they were still alive. She wasn't sure what her dreams meant. Maybe they were the product of a tortured mind or an omen of things that could be. She couldn't take that chance. Realizing she couldn't live with herself if she let that happen she stepped in front of him blocking his path.

"I'm not interested in any _help_ you could offer because I have no intention of chasing down something that may not even exist. I'm going back to the Circle. Irving will have to take me back." He continued stopping short as she cut him off.

"Best become interested." She growled. _Wait! What are you doing! _Her mind screamed. _Are you INSANE?! He's a mage! Don't challenge him! You saw what he could do! He's going to turn you into a crispy fritter!_

The elf gave her a cocky smile. "Oh? Or what?"

Mallory equipped her maul, taking comfort in its weight and substance. The elf's smile grew wider. He cracked his knuckles in an ostentatious display.

"You really want to do this?"

"Err.. Malory.." Leliana began.

Mallory silenced her with a look and nodded at the elf. "Just you and me. No interference from the others. First one to yield loses. If you yield, Leliana goes with you." _I don't trust him. What if Leliana goes with him and he kills her? I owe her more than that. A life for a life. A debt to be repaid. I need to make sure he keeps his end of the deal and does everything possible to stop the Blight and keep her safe. _She thought about it for a moment then amended her terms. "And I go with her as well."

"And if you yield- which you undoubtedly will- you piss off and don't pester me again."

"Deal."

"So when do we start?" Mallory asked, suddenly unsure. After all, she had never dueled before.

"How about now?" The mage said with a malevolent grin. Without any further warning he shot a fire blast her way. The conical jet of flames rolled over Mallory completely obscuring her from view. Leliana screamed in terror as she watched her friend be consumed by the torrential blaze.

"Maker's breath, Alim!" Alistair gasped.

"Do you yield?" Alim asked, laughing contemptuously. Fed by the tall grasses surrounding the town, the flames continued to burn high, shrouding her from view.

"Y-you monster!" Leliana cried. Her fingers were inches from her bow when the flames subsided revealing Mallory completely unharmed. Mallory coughed up the smoke that had invaded her lungs, blinking in confusion and shock. The ground where she stood was blackened and still smoking as the charred remnants of the wild grass curled under the intense heat. Small flames still burned along the edges of her robe. Much of the garment had been burnt from her body; sending pieces of ashy fabric spiraling in the breeze. The red steel of her maul was ablaze with heat and blistered her hands. She would have dropped the weapon immediately if the sheer rage hadn't gripped her helping her block out the pain. _That…THAT BASTARD!_

"Hmm.. " Alim frowned. "That's.. interesting. That usually works."

Mallory screamed in fury, hefting her maul overhead to flatten the elf. Alim shrieked in terror as he realized what she was going to do. He threw another spell at her hoping to slow down her charging form. The blue electricity bounced harmlessly off Mallory as she chased the elf around. Alim's only saving grace was the fact that her injured leg prevented her from catching up to him. His lithe body allowed him to dodge the earth shattering blows she was swinging his way, but he was tiring quickly. Alistair, Morrigan, and Leliana watched the scene play out as the frenzied redhead pursued the mage around the field.

"You know," Leliana stated with an amused smile. "I was going to shoot him, but I think I like this better."

"Ya, I know." Alistair chimed in. "This is way better than any punishment I could have come up with."

"Your friend seems to be almost impervious to magic." Morrigan observed. "I had thought only the dwarven people had such high resistance. I have never heard of a human that was immune. Tis a curiosity."

Alim dodged another blow from the maul, this time just barely. He didn't have the stamina for this kind of running around. Mallory relentlessly pursued him as he continued to uselessly waste his mana throwing spells at her. She swung again, the head of her maul burying itself deep within the earth as she missed. Unfazed, she tore the head up sending clumps of dirt flying through the air as she dislodged it from the ground. Winded, Alim ran by the spectators.

"Well, don't just stand there! Do something!"

"Perhaps you should yield?" Alistair shouted as the panting elf lurched by. Alim threw the templar a dirty look as Leliana covered her mouth with her hand to hide her snicker. Alim stumbled, and fell on all fours as the last of his energy was spent. Mallory barreled down on top of him with no sign of relenting.

"Stop! Stop!" he cried frantically, rolling over on his back and scooting away from her. The fresh grass stained his back streaking his already tarnished robes with green. Mallory didn't respond, but halted before him and hefted her hammer skyward. The weapon glowed magnificently in the dimming light. Alim threw his hands up defensively.

"I yield! I yield!" he shrieked. Alim squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the blow that never came. He opened his eyes at the sound of snickering off to the side. The head of the hammer was suspended in the air hovering inches from his face. The red headed giant was looming over him, a strange smile on her face. Gone was the look of insanity, replaced only with a victorious smirk. Alim blinked in surprise as she gently tapped him on the forehead with the maul and said. "Boink."

She then put the maul away and offered him a hand up.

"Looks like you have two new party members. I'm Mallory."

Alim, face reddening with humiliation, disregarded her as he picked himself off the ground with as much dignity as he could muster. He brushed the blades of grass from his rear as he grumbled and stormed off towards the bridge. Leliana was still gaffing into the palm of her hand and her eyes sparkled with delight as he passed her by and shot her an ugly look. Mallory watched the Warden stomp away, privately smiling herself. She could have hurt him. She had WANTED to hurt him. Sending that fireball her way was a really dirty trick. However, if he and Alistair were the last Wardens in Ferelden, it was more important that he survive than satisfying her ego. She didn't truly understand why Wardens were imperative to stopping the Blight. No one she had spoken to could clarify and the texts were vague. All they mentioned was how only a Gray Warden could end a Blight. Then again, they had always portrayed them as honorable warriors and decent people; something she was certain Alim was not, but she wasn't about to take that risk.

She hoped there was some reason to let him live, or she had a feeling she may regret her act of mercy. He hadn't actually hurt her, though he had obviously intended too. The spell had been meant to vaporize her on the spot. She frowned, unsure of how she had come out of the flames unscathed. How on earth had she survived? She was struck with sudden comprehension. _That's why Hybris never healed me with magic! I must have some sort of natural resistance. Maybe because there is no magic on Earth? _The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. She looked at the ground where she had stood. Where her feet had rested, the grass was a healthy emerald green sharply contrasting the semi-circle of burnt ashes that outlined the effected area of his spell. Pieces of her robes were still smoldering in the ash. Her theory was panning out. Everything around her had been affected, with the exception of her person. Then flames had even heated the metal of her maul causing her hands to blister, but that injury was indirectly related to the magic. _Hmm.. I wonder if that means only direct magic can harm me? If a mage was to open a hole up beneath my feet, would I fall through it? It would effect the area around me and therefore I would succumb to gravity, right? What if the laws of science and magic can't coexist and cancel each other out somehow? Maybe that's why Hybris was able to bring me here but not heal me? Not too keen on testing that theory yet. I hope Alim doesn't figure that out or I could be in trouble. _Mallory's head was beginning to hurt from all the possibilities her discovery had unleashed. And all the questions. She took a quick glance at her clothing, annoyed that most of it had been destroyed. _Ok. This is the third time I've ended up involuntarily naked in this world. Is this going to be a trend here? If so, I am so investing in solid armor. _

"Are you alright?" Leliana asked.

"Yeah, though my robe has seen better days." She absently peeled a strip of charred cloth off her shoulder and set it free in the wind. It fluttered south, towards Sten who had witnessed the whole scene and stood solemnly watching her. She met his eyes for a moment and he gave her an impassive stare.

"Are you coming or not?" Alim yelled in the distance. The ire in his voice was unmistakable. "You just made a big deal about coming with me and yet you are dawdling!"

"Be right there!" She shouted over her shoulder. "And don't even think about running off. If you do, I'll find you and we will have to have another talk. If that has to happen, I can guarantee you won't like it."

He was too far away to make out his expression but judging by the barrage of expletives he issued forth, he was clever enough to know she meant it. He was also smart enough to realize that he had no defense against her and their next conversation would likely result in him getting pulverized.

"Don't worry." Alistair chimed in. "The hound can find him if he tries to get too far. That's how I've caught up to him every time he tried to leave me behind."

The mabari barked in affirmation. She gave them both an appreciative grin and turned to her friend.

"Leliana," She inquired. "You once told me you knew your way around a lock. Care to practice?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Reinforcements." She said as she hobbled towards the cage Quanri.

* * *

Sten watched as the one that brought him water pursued the saarebas around the field. His swings, though powerful, lacked control and discipline. They were the wild attempts of an amateur with none of the finesse of a season warrior. He noted how his injury made it difficult to maneuver and automatically corrected his stance in his mind with his many years of experience on the battlefield. No. That footing left him too easy to imbalance. Wrong. That swing was too erratic, leaving an opening for a counterattack. Wrong again. He needed to be sent back to the Tamassaran, for he had learned nothing of value apparently. Sten frowned, forcing himself to stop correcting his form and focus on the battle.

He was unsure what had caused the altercation between them, but the saarebas seemed to have attacked him unprovoked. That was hardly surprising. The saarebas here lacked an arvaavad to contain their evil magic. Who knows how long it had walked free and been exposed to corruption, tainting others in its path? It was just as well he was putting it to death. He tracked their fight with some amusement. This battle was the most entertainment he had experienced since he had been caged, aside from frightening the locals and practicing the bas language. He was disappointed when the fight ended abruptly. Sten watched with confusion as the victor did not land the final blow. He was letting the saarebas go? Was he a fool? He saw him extend a hand to the magic wielder who quickly refused it. Was he making a deal with it? His lip curled in disgust. He had seemed different than the usual basra that populated this vashedan country. At least, he had enough courage to approach him and some of his words held a hint of wisdom. Apparently he was no different than the others after all. He should have known. To deal with a saarebas was unthinkable. He met his gaze and as their eyes locked he stared him down, conveying his disapproval.

His stomach growled in earnest reminding him that he had not eaten in weeks. Closing his eyes, he willed his gut to cease it's disgruntled noise and focused on the words of the Qun. The words poured from him ingrained in more than memory, for they were etched into his very being. He took strength from the truth of the Qun even in the inevitably of his own demise.

"Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun."

He repeated the mantra once more before he was interrupted by the harsh sound of metal grating. He opened his eyes and found the warrior with the hammer and the sister gazing at him expectantly with the door to his cage standing wide open. Sten balked in surprised seeing the warrior close up and literally disrobed. Breasts. He was a she! He had always assumed the water barer was male since its body lacked much of the feminine characteristics that other human females from this country had. The shoulders were too broad and muscles too pronounced. Her figure had none of the curves that were trademark among females allowing them to excel at speed and dexterity: instead she appeared to be built for power and stamina. It was little wonder she handled the weapon so poorly. Women could not be warriors. The one called Mallory bared her teeth at him in a-what was that word?- smile? Yes smile.

"You're free!" She supplied, stating the obvious. She took a step back presumably to make room for him to exit.

"No." He replied tersely.

"No?" She parroted back perplexed.

"Just because the door is open does not mean I am no longer caged."

The human made a strange gesture, slapping the palm of her hand against her forehead. He did not understand the significance of the signal and it seemed to serve little other purpose than make her appear even less intelligent. The woman sighed, removing her hand and tried again.

"We've graduated from idioms to allegories now, have we?" She muttered to herself before addressing him directly. "Ok. Let me rephrase that. Care to upgrade your current impending death for a far more dangerous one? One filled with excitement, fun , and the chance to meet exotic people and kill them?"

"I do not understand. What does this word upgrade mean?"

The woman sighed once more. It was a dejected sound, the one often used when expressing frustration when a child does not understand. "You know what the worst part about this place is? It's not the lack of technology or personal hygiene. Not even the demons or darkspawn. It's the fact that no one gets my jokes!"

"You find the lack of laughter at your ill conceived attempts at humor greater than the threat of darkspawn?" Sten questioned. This woman was mad. Then again she had bargained with a saarebas. And was trying to be a man. Perhaps mad was not a strong enough word.

"What? No! Why do you think I freed you?! So you could help the Grey Warden defeat the darkspawn."

"You are a Gray Warden?" He asked skeptically. He had heard legends of the Wardens being formidable warriors, not poorly trained women that could barely hold their weapon.

"Me? A Warden?" The woman scoffed in laughter. "Not hardly. No. He's the Warden."

She gestured over her shoulder towards.. towards the saarebas? They let a saarebas be a Warden? This place was more backward than he originally imagined. Still, he had heard that all of the Wardens were killed at Ostagar. If one had survived, then he was either an impressive warrior or a coward that fled from battle. Sten contemplated his options. He could not return home without his sword, but his duty to the Arishok still remained. He would not abandon his duty to the Qun even if he was stranded in this forsaken country. He certainly couldn't fulfill his obligation by standing in this cage.

"Very well," he rumbled, stepping forth from the prison. "I will fight the darkspawn."

"Great!" Mallory replied triumphantly. "Do you know what they did with your weapon and armor when you surrendered?"

"My equipment was not with me when I was taken." His thoughts turned to Asala, who was lost to the scavengers of this place. Inwardly he cringed at the thought of his soul in the hands of some darkspawn.

"Hmmm… ok we need armor for you, me, and Leliana. Thankfully some generous folks have donated a few things that may be useable." She glanced back at the men who had attacked the group earlier. "Oh! And one more thing."

She walked past him and picked up the cup of water that she had left near the cage. Approaching him again she held the cup of water out for him to take. He raised an eyebrow at her gall.

"Can't fight darkspawn without being in top condition." She quipped. "Best drink up! We have a long road ahead of us! Join us when you are ready."

She thrust cup of water into his hand and walked off without looking back. The Chantry sister joined her and they began looting the bodies of the men that had attacked the group earlier. Sten watched them strip the armor of the fallen and pile it on the side. _What an odd woman_. He thought looking at the cup still resting in his hand. _She's toying with me_. Still, her stubbornness brought the barest hint of a smirk to his lips. As did her concern for his well being. Only when he was she was fully engrossed with her task, did he tip the contents of the cup down his throat and toss the vessel over his shoulder into the tall grass.

* * *

Mallory fidgeted with her scale mail pulling at it in a vain attempt to make it more comfortable. The effort was just that: futile. After searching the bodies of the men and killing some bandits that were on the outskirts of town, they had pieced together a semi-decent set of armor for Sten, Leliana, and herself. Well, decent for Sten and Leliana. They found a complete set of rough leather armor for Leliana and a near complete set of full mail for Sten. Mallory was stuck wearing men's armor that didn't leave much room for certain anatomical differences. It was abrading the bruises that littered her body. Coupled with the fact that she was unaccustomed to wearing chain mail, she fully anticipated being chaffed and sore by the end of the day. The worst part had been pulling up the boot over her damaged knee. Tears of agony had threatened to overwhelm her as she had struggled to get into the knee high boots. Huffing in exasperation, she gave up on tugging at the mail and counted her blessing that she had thought to bind her chest before donning the armor.

Alim led the party down the bridge out of Lothering. He was flanked by Morrigan and Alistair, followed up by the mabari, Sten and Leliana. The fact that she was placed in the rear of the party wasn't lost on Mallory but it wasn't worth arguing over. As long as he behaved himself she wasn't going to nitpick. It had crossed her mind that she was acting like a bit of a bully and the thought disturbed her. For the first time in her life she had power and she was using it to threaten someone and force him to act the way she wanted him to. She had at first felt a twinge of guilt, comparing herself to Hybris, but she quickly dismissed the notion when she recalled him burning that soldier alive. She had refused to compromise her own morals and this was the consequences of that choice. Beating herself up or feeling guilty would solve nothing, and quite frankly, she had felt guilty all her life for things that were not even her fault. She was tired of feeling guilty. So, when they came across a pair of dwarves that were being attacked by darkspawn, she didn't hesitate to flex her muscles when Alim suggested leaving them to their fate.

That had been about three hours ago. They had made short work of the darkspawn and sent Bodhan and his odd son safely on their way as the party continued west while the sky darkened and dusk approached. There had been a brief argument about their destination, but after some discussion it had been decided that proceeding to Redcliff was the most logical course of action since it was only a few days travel from the town. Mallory hoped that this Arl Eamon was every bit as powerful that Alistair claimed. They would need all the help they could get against Loghain. When they stopped for a brief break off the side of the Imperial Highway, she had poured over one of the few items she had brought with her on the trek: A book on the history of Ferelden that the Revered Mother had bequeathed her. From its pages and from what Leliana had told her, Loghain was a fierce warrior and master tactician who was almost solely responsible for driving out the Orlesians occupation. The people worshiped him as a hero and they would need someone equally popular to oppose him. She hope this Eamon would be enough to win them some favor. Since he was the uncle of former King Cailan and one of his closest living relatives, it stood he was probably the strongest candidate for the throne as well. Then again, there had been the disturbing rumors floating around the Arl was deathly ill. She had overheard a conversation between the Revered Mother and a knight that had passed through the Chantry one evening. Something about an urn of ashes with amazing healing powers. Whispers throughout the Chantry halls hinted that the knight were searching for a cure that could bring back someone from the brink of death. They may get there and find no help at all. Mallory mulled all this over in her mind trying to make a mental list of everything and cursing the fact that she had ever taken something as mundane as a pen and paper for granted. All these people were starting to get confusing and she was mixing them up in her head. She knew she could ask Leliana, but she had no desire to raise the bard's suspicions about her unusual origins. She had already slipped once today when she mentioned Ferelden's lack of technology to Sten. After all, how many questions could she ask about a country she supposedly grew up in before appearing like she had lived under a rock all her life? The whole barbarian of the Wilds excuse would only get her so far with the insightful red head.

With a faint sigh, she placed her book back in her pack and took out the loaf of bread, red apple, and slice of goat cheese: a final parting gift from the Chantry. She wanted to ration it and save the meager meal for later, but she was burning up all her energy just trying to keep pace with the rest of the group. She was starving! Her stomach rumbled in ardor as she carefully cored and peeled the apple with her dagger as she listened to Alim grip about his sore feet and that he was getting blisters. She swore, all that mage did was complain about his lot in life. Sten harrumphed in aggravation at the mage's ranting and retreated further away to practice swinging the two handed broad sword they had looted off the corpse of a bandit. Mallory watched him with fascination as he swung the blade with expert precision as he tested its balance. He scowled at the sword as if it didn't meet his expectations and reequipped it, leaning his bulky form against a shade tree. He caught her looking his way and scowled harder in her general direction, folding his arms over his chest plate in a defensive maneuver. Any sane person would have been intimidated, but Mallory just hid her smile as she sliced into the pungent goat cheese. She wondered how long it had been since he ate.

"Oooh! Is that cheese?!" Alistair exclaimed plunking down besides her with a rattle of his plate mail. "I love cheese!"

He gave Mallory the largest set of sparkling puppy dog eyes she had ever seen, even making his bottom lip quiver as the smell wafted over him. The mabari hound soon joined him and she found herself the subject of the most unfair stare down in the history of the universe. Someone whimpered- at this point she wasn't sure if was Alistair or the dog- and she caved.

"Oh, fine! Here!" She said in mock scorn. "Take it before you get drool all over me-either of you!"

She tore her apple and cheese sandwich into four pieces and gave one part to Alistair. Another piece she had in her hand, but she wasn't to sure how gentle a war dog would take food from a near stranger. She eyed his sharp fangs and massive paws deciding she was glad the animal was on their side. The mabari panted and quirked his head at her wagging his tail as he waiting patiently for her to share her bounty.

"Sit!" She commanded. The mabari quirked his head and after giving her a strange look, regally placed his rump on the dirt road and gazed at her expectantly. Mallory grinned and placed his portion of the sandwich in front of his paws. The hound consumed the food in one bite, not even bothering to chew as he let it slide down his gullet. Licking his chops, the dog barked once at Mallory before springing into her lap and licking her furiously. She grabbed the remaining part of the sandwich and stashed in her bag with one hand as she tried to fend of the dog with the other.

"Ech! Stop! Your breath reeks! Down-" Mallory shouted when she could get her face away from the dog's relentless kisses. She broke off mid chide when she realized she didn't even know the dog's name. She had just been referring to it as the mabari or dog in her mind.

"What's his name?" Mallory asked Alistair, while trying to shove the hundred pound animal off her lap.

"Don't know." Alistair said around a mouthful of sandwich. "Alim has just been calling him Dog. Among other words like mutt or mongrel."

"Alim! What's your dog's name?

Alim and Morrigan had distanced themselves from the group and were conversing in hushed tones. Alim gave her an irritated glare as he broke off his conversation with the witch: the bridge of his nose wrinkling in derision.

"How should I know? He's not my dog. He just followed me from Ostagar! Just call him Dog!"

"What!?" Mallory exclaimed ruffling the dog's fur as he rolled on his back for pets. "He's a magnificent and loyal creature. Intelligent too. You can't just name him Dog! It's insulting and demeaning, like someone calling you Elf all the time."

"If you care so much what he's called, you name him then. You can have him. He's your responsibility. I never wanted that mongrel anyways. If I had known that he was going to track me down, I never would have brought back that flower! Now stop pestering me with inane questions. I'm busy!"

Discussion closed, Alim situated his back to them and continued his conversation with Morrigan. Mallory scowled at his dismissal, finding it harder and harder to find anything positive about the elf as she spent more time in his company.

"Flower?" she asked Alistair. "What is he talking about?"

"It's a long story. Just ignore him. I know I do." Alistair sighed.

"It must be horrible. I mean, you know. You and him being the last two Wardens in Ferelden. Can't you.. you know.. make more?"

"No. Duncan never taught me how to complete the Joining. The ritual we use to create more Wardens. That information was lost when he died. We are the last." He replied sadly. He gazed up at the stars that were just beginning to twinkle in the sky. Mallory swore she saw the hint of a tear in his eyes, but he sniffed, cleared his throat and changed the subject before things got too morose.

"So, what are you going to name him?" He questioned, patting the dog on the head.

"Huh?" Mallory supplied, surprised at the change in topic. "Oh! The dog! Ummm… I hadn't given it much thought."

She rubbed the dog behind the ears, suppressing a slight chuckle as his hind legged thumped the dirt, miming her scratching. It was a foreign concept: naming an animal intelligent enough to understand the name and the significance behind it. In an odd way, she felt honored to choose a name worthy of the war hound. She contemplated the traits of the dog as she formulated a name. Finishing her portion of the sandwich, she began a mental list. Loyal. Dogs were loyal to the end and would die for their masters. Brave. Agile. She had seen the dog move with impressive speed as it took down the Alpha Hurlock that was attacking the dwarves. Intelligent. He had devised a strategy to take down the darkspawn and was able to understand complex commands. Brown. Well, he was brown. _Hmmm.. Loyal, brave, agile, intelligent and brown._

"Rocko." The word fell from her lips, unbidden. Surprised at her assessment she gazed into the dog's brown eyes and knew she spoke the truth. She addressed him instead of Alistair and the dog listened intently as she explained.

"I once knew someone who was like you. He was brave and powerful. He protected me from harm and together we defeated many opponents. He's gone now, but I will never forget him. He was my best friend. I'd like you to bare his name. What do you think?"

The mabari barked affirmation, excitedly wagging his tail and he danced around in a circle. He then gave Mallory a hearty lick before flopping heavily at her side. He leaned on her protectively as he panted contently.

"Looks like you have a new friend." Leliana observed.

Mallory grinned sheepishly as the dog nuzzled her, demanding more pets. "Him? Nah. He probably just loves me because I fed him. After all, they say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Maybe the same is true for dogs?"

"Huh. And here I thought it was through the chest. Well, that explains what I've been doing wrong all this time. I've been aiming at the incorrect place. I'm going to have to revise my tactics for the next battle." Alistair said, standing tall and brushing off his armor. "Consider me won over."

Mallory said more to herself than anyone in particular. "Behold! The power of cheese! Bringing people together even better than a Blight!"

"I know, right!" Alistair chimed in. "Maybe we should find a way to unite Ferelden with cheese. Or fight darkspawn with it!"

"All right, Alistair. You're in charge of the Gray Warden's secret weapon. The cheese sword! Just make sure you make it out of cheddar. So that it's SHARP!"

Mallory and Leliana broke out in laughter as Alistair groaned and shook his head at her bad pun. Even Sten snorted in amusement, though he was quick to cover it up with a well disguised cough.

"I should have seen that coming. Now, if you will excuse me ladies. Nature calls." Alistair bowed gracefully with his hand over his heart and left their company for the privacy of the woods. She watched him go and gave Rocko a quick pat on the head before standing and stretching. Her knee popped audibly and she winced as she put weight on it, stealing her mirth away in favor of grim reality. _I'm going to have to find a different way of sitting. It feels like my entire leg is asleep. I'm betting that my entire circulatory system is messed up in that leg. _She had initially tried sitting cross legged on the hard road, but her knee had refused to bend that far. Instead, she had opted to tuck her legs underneath her body, but the position was uncomfortable and left her unable to get up quickly. If they were attacked while she was resting, those few additional seconds it took her to rise could cost her dearly. _It's so strange. Thinking I may be attacked at any second. I still have not gotten used to it. I can't let my guard down for even a minute. Arghh. This is so frustrating. Not only am I having to adapt to a new way of life and thinking, but an injury that is slowing me down and making me a liability. _She ground her teeth in agitation, determined to ignore the searing flash of heat that accompanied her movement. It was hard to believe that only a few moments ago she had been laughing and enjoying a moment where she didn't have to think about her handicap. _NO! I will not be a liability! I will find a way to make this work!_

Frowning, she bent to retrieve the last portion of her sandwich before her mood soured further and distracted her from the reason she had got up in the first place. Sandwich in hand, she limped towards Sten who was still leaning against the tree. Her limp was more pronounced than usual from the injury stiffing as she sat. She pretended not to notice as his eyes flicked down to her damaged leg for a brief second. He calmly watched she approached, neither offering her help or pity as she covered the distance between them. Just staring her down, as if she was a tax collector coming to call.

"Are you ok?" She inquired when she finally made it to him. "You were in that cage for a long time."

"You are asking if I am fit to fight? Do not concern yourself. I am well enough to strike down any enemy."

"Not quite what I meant. It's disturbing the way you automatically assume I'm talking about killing things. You must be starving. Here." She offered him the remaining fourth of her meal. "It's not much, but it may tide you over until we make camp and have a chance to get some real food."

He took the sandwich from her and inspected it for a moment. He did not eat it, but held on to it as he looked her over curiously. Mallory fidgeted, uncomfortable with the sudden scrutiny.

"You look like a woman, yet you do not wish to be one. I do not understand."

Mallory jerked back in surprise, a little insulted by what he was insinuating. "I am a woman."

"But you wish to be a man. Why?"

"What?!" Mallory said taken aback. "I don't know what you are talking about. When have I ever said I want to be a man?"

"Women are priest or artisans, not warriors. Yet you attempt to wield a weapon. Your stance is horrible and your form is incorrect, but still you are trying to fight. Why? It is obvious that you lack proper training. Women do not fight."

"I don't want to be a man!" Mallory fumed, her cheeks turning scarlet. "I want to be a woman who fights! I have never had training before. If you are so concerned about my stance, perhaps YOU should teach me something instead of pointing out my flaws! I'm doing the best I can!"

"It is not my job to teach. You should seek a Tamassaran, though he would never put you in the position of a warrior. The Qun is clear. Each must fulfill their roles within the Qun."

"Maybe my role is to be a woman who fights! Maybe your Qun doesn't apply to me? Ever think about that?"

"All of this world must submit to the will of the Qun. It is not done. You cannot be anything other than what you are."

"Hey!" Alistair yelled. "We are losing what little light we have fast. We need to get moving and find a secure location for a camp sight! Alim wants to move out. Come on!"

Mallory glanced at the others who were already on the move up the Imperial Highway. Alistair was right. It did them no good to be targets on the open road for any bandit or thug that came by searching for refugees to prey on. Rocko barked at her, wagging his tail as he waited for her to rejoin the group. She cast a baleful glare at Sten who had not moved from his tree.

"This conversation isn't over." She growled at him. "I can and I WILL fight! With or without your approval."

She snatched her pack off the ground and started to lope to try and catch up with the party.

"You're going to get yourself killed." Sten stoically observed as she left him behind. She pulled at her armor again, trying to maneuver it away from the large bruise that covered her ribs: the remnant of her last fight with the civilian attackers. The flesh was still tender and she still was covered in black bruises from her encounter with the darkspawn and bandits. Though immune to magic, a sword could end her life just as easily as a spell. She had been lucky so far, but how long would her luck hold out? For once, she could think of nothing to say to argue with him.


	6. Adaptation

Chapter 5

Adaptation

Mallory cursed as another gnarled stick tumbled from her grasp. Hissing in pain, she bent down to retrieve it as best she could. It was an awkward position due to her bad knee: She had to spread her legs wide and lean to one side to keep the pressure off her injured knee cap. Stumbling, she let go of her bundle in favor of bracing her impending fall with her hands. She fell heavily onto the leaf carpeted ground with a resounding clank of her armor. Growling in frustration, she hurtled a stick at a nearby tree. It bounced off the sturdy oak and broke into two pieces, sending them flying into the brush that sparsely grew around the forest. Part of her realized she was being childish but she was hungry, tired, sore, and stank to high heaven and it was hard to stay in a positive mind set when even the simplest of tasks had become a struggle. She had volunteered to gather firewood while the others had set up camp partly because it was something she thought she could handle and also she wanted some time to herself.

After another hour of walking at a grueling pace, they had found a suitable clearing off the road for a defensible camp site. It had been pitch black by the time they had cleared the site of debris and found fresh water. By then, Mallory's thighs, back, and stomach were so raw from her armor she was bleeding in a few choice spots. Her stomach was rebelling in a fit of ravenous pique and she was sweating like she had run a marathon. The smell alone was enough to irritate her. She simply loathed the way she naturally smelt; akin to the air right before a rain storm, heavy with ozone and wet earth. With no deodorant available in this world, she was ripe by the time they had arrived and quite disgusted. The prolonged walking had made her knee hurt just as badly as it had when the injury was fresh causing her even more aggravation. She had tried not to complain but when the telltale ache of her approaching moontime began, she decided she needed to get away from the group for a moment's peace before she lost her temper over someone breathing her air.

With mild annoyance, she gathered up her bundle of sticks as the brush to her right began to rustle. Dropping her cargo, she whirled with her maul drawn, stifling a screech of pain as her knee all but popped out of the joint. _Come at me! I could use something to pound at this point! _She thought as she waited for her attacker to reveal itself. Rocko leapt from the bushes, excitedly wagging his tail, and quite happy to see her. In his powerful jaws he clutched the body of a jackrabbit, only slightly mauled but heavily drooled upon. Mallory sighed and put away her weapon, her ire subsiding at the friendly greeting the dog gave her. Like an overgrown cat leaving dead offerings to its master, the hound placed the sizable hare at her feet and spun around in a tight circle, barking happily.

"Quite proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"Bark!" Which she translated to a playful _I'd like to see you do better with your teeth!_

Mallory chuckled and affectionately patted the mabari on the head. "Well done! Is that to be dinner tonight?"

"Bark!"

"Well? What are you waiting for? Dig in."

Rocko gave her a quizzical look and then nuzzled the rabbit's corpse closer to her. He then sat down and looked at her expectantly, his tail making a wide arc in the fallen leaves.

"It's for me?" Mallory asked, catching on to the dog's meaning.

"Bark!"

Mallory knelt as best she could, touched that the dog had thought of her and actually cared enough about her well being to make sure she had food. How Alim could ever toss away this magnificent creature's affections were beyond her understanding. The message seemed clear: you took care of me, now I'll take care of you.

"You're a good boy, Rocko. You certainly are living up to your name. Thank you."

Rocko woofed and licked her cheek as she scratched his chest. Mallory stood, brushing off the dirt and leaves from the rabbit as she inspected the carcass. Other then a few bite marks and a lot of drool, it was fairly intact and plump and no doubt make a wonderful stew or spit roast. Mallory frowned when she thought of Alim. She doubted the fussy mage would like the idea of dining on a mabari mauled meal. She could already hear his high pitched grating voice in her head shrieking about how unsanitary it was. A malicious smile crept across her face as she thought about him eating the previously slobbered on meat unaware of its origins.

She wasn't fond of the elf and she was certain the feeling was mutual. She had hoped his lack of empathy was simply some form of social awkwardness or the product of a lifetime spent in the Circle. She could understand how being locked in a tower only to be released into the world with no preparation could cause some confusion. She would have been shocked if a certain period of adaptation wasn't required to adjust to the culture shock and new social settings. She even understood why he and Morrigan would cling to each other. Not only did they share the commonality of both being mages, but the complete lack of understanding certain social nuances and behaviors that set boundaries and expectations. He seemed to have no idea how to address people other than order them about. He expected others to either be in awe of him or to immediately respect him when did not return the courtesy. For him, power was something he was entitled to, not a privilege. There was more to it than his attitude though. He didn't seem to understand how the outside world worked. It was sheer ignorance as well as naiveté that showed in every decision he made. When she had suggested creating a watch to patrol the camp in shifts and keep the other party members safe while they slumbered, it seemed like the idea had never even crossed his mind. Of course, he had berated her, telling her that he had certainly thought of that and just hadn't got around to it yet. Then she had asked about supplies. Did they have tents to sleep in, or were they to sleep on the ground? What about food? Redcliff was still a few days travel to the west. Were they supposed to hunt while walking? Or go without food until they arrived at Redcliff? She pointed out the fact that they now had six people to feed, plus one mabari and supplies were dwindling fast. What about armor? Certainly the armor they had scavenged would have to do for now, but did he have a plan to gather more funds so that new armor could be bought or at least repairs made on their current sets? She had asked these question because it was something she had been wondering herself. It became evident that he did not appreciate her pointing these dilemmas out, but instead of solving them he just insulted her and told her to stop bothering him. She had even hinted at some possible solutions, hoping he would catch on and save face by taking credit for the ideas, but he steadfastly refused to hear her out. She got the distinct impression that he didn't care about his team's comfort, just as long as he needs and desires were fulfilled. She wanted to believe that a life of seclusion in this Circle Tower he kept talking about was the reason for his temperament, but that excuse only went so far. Every time she gave him the benefit of the doubt, he turned around and did something horrible to reaffirm that he was -indeed- just an awful person. So, she had gone to gather firewood hoping a task would quell the desire to throttle him, resigned to spend first night of her journey sleeping on the cold ground with an almost empty stomach.

"Hey Rocko. Wanna help me with these sticks?"

The mabari barked and picked up a mouthful or firewood, thick slaver thoroughly coating them. Mallory giggled as a string of drool lazily spiraled toward the ground. She bent to retrieve the last of the sticks and began backtracking towards the campsite.

"I'll make you a deal." She told Rocko as the walked. "You don't let Alim know that you caught the rabbit and I'll make sure you get the choicest pieces. Deal?"

The hound gave her a muffled bark of affirmation. Mallory walked back to camp with a slight skip in her step despite the pain.

* * *

"This is excellent, Morrigan!" Alim praised the witch as he ate another spoonful of rabbit stew. Mallory smiled into her broth as she watched the mage take another slurp of the hearty stew. The comment was obviously meant to be a jab at Mallory, for Alim had not even acknowledged the fact that she had provided the rabbit for cooking. Mallory let the remark slide, enjoying her meal even more now that it was flavored with just a hint of revenge. To her credit, Morrigan had said nothing when Mallory presented the rabbit for preparation. A delicate eyebrow was raised as she had examined carcass and that was it. She had prepared the meal and using her expert knowledge of local herbs, seasoning the stew to perfection, and creating a comforting meal with meager rations.

"It truly is." Said Alistair, sounding almost disappointed. Mallory guessed he was hoping he could bash Morrigan's cooking prowess as payback for all her scathing remarks throughout the day.

"Flattery? How unusual to be coming from you, templar. Or is this a meager offering of peace to insure my meal does not turn you into a toad?" Morrigan observed shrewdly.

Alistair made a strange noise and eyed his stew warily. "You wouldn't!" he said. "Would you?"

"Of course not," Morrigan replied as she dished out a helping for Sten. "T'would be an insult to toads ever'where."

"Ha hah ha." Alistair drained the remains of his dinner and stoked the fire.

"On an unrelated note," Morrigan supplied as she and Alim walked away. "I do know over twenty eight types of poisonous plants indigenous to this region."

When Mallory finally stopped choking, she glanced from Alistair to Leliana, both of whom were scrutinizing their bowls with extreme concentration. "I vote Alistair prepares breakfast."

"Agreed" Leliana said, smelling a spoonful of stew.

"Oh, you're going to live to regret that decision." Alistair said. "You know, if we live. Being poisoned might be kinder."

Mallory shook her head, ignoring the man's self depreciating humor. She didn't quite understand Alistair. He was a fine warrior, handsome and kind, yet he seemed so unsure of himself. He had mentioned growing up in the Chantry and living a sheltered life. It was understandable that he would lack confidence in certain areas, such a courting, but she couldn't imagine the Chantry training templars without encouraging some self-confidence in themselves or their abilities. You'd have to have some level of assurance to charge headlong into battle with a mage that could turn into a demon at any second. Or be insane. Alistair didn't seem the insane type. When she questioned as to why he was letting Alim lead, he had made some off color joke about getting lost and ending up with no pants. The fact he was willing to do nothing to change the situation came as a shock. Alistair disapproved of many of Alim's choices, yet he still deferred to him for any decision the party made. She was fairly certain that if it came to blows Alistair's templar training would allow him to beat Alim with minimal effort. Though he verbally challenged the mage, Alistair had made no attempts to seize power over some of the mage's morally reprehensible judgments. Alistair seemed to have some crippling fear of being in charge, not wanting the responsibility. Or he had to be pushed really far before he took action.

Then again, perhaps Alistair was raised exactly as the Chantry intended. A soldier meant to follow orders, never question them. She thought about the dynamics of the Chantry and how it seemed to exist to keep everyone in check. Alistair had mentioned the Chantry's control of lyrium and how addictive the substance was to the templars. The Chantry controlled the lyrium, which meant they had power over the templars, who in turn had dominance over the mages. If the templars got out line, how easy would it be to deny them any lyrium? Who would be willing to go through withdrawal to protect a few mages? Or worse, face the wrath of your fellow templars if you are the one responsible for their withdrawal? It was a well orchestrated system of domination. Mallory wondered if the templars ever realized they were just as much prisoners as the mages. _Probably not. Maybe it's best Alistair isn't in charge. He's a nice guy, but probably has never had an original thought in his life. _She pondered, finishing her stew.

She set down her bowl and looked at the night sky in awe. It was surreal seeing the stars unobscured by telephone lines or drowned out by artificial lights. They winked overhead, watching the world like silent guardians. With the sun absent, the temperature had dropped comfortably queuing the nighttime insects to begin their song. _Sleeping under the stars won't be so bad. At least I won't go to bed with an empty stomach. It'll be like camping.. just without a tent… or sleeping bag.. or pillow. _She let out a tired sigh and draped her arm around Rocko. The big dog leaned on her eager for contact, almost pushing her off her stump she perched on. She scratched his head absently as she wondered if curling up with the animal for warmth throughout the night would be worth the fleas. She didn't have a chance ponder anything further as the dog's ears perked up and he spun facing the road with a low growl.

"Heads up!" Mallory hissed getting to her feet. She grasped her maul and peered into the darkness as Rocko's growl deepened his hackles rising. "Something's coming!"

Leliana and Sten flanked her, weapons at the ready as Alistair ran to fetch Alim. After a few tense moments, she heard a high pitched squeaking sound followed by heavy footfalls. _A shriek maybe? With an ogre? _She thought recalling the different subspecies of darkspawn she had read about. _Oh gods, I hope not! I'm so tired I can barely lift my weapon. _She reaffirmed her grip on the maul, trying to ignore her arms' shaking from muscle failure. Squeak. Squeak. Thump. Mallory licked her lips as her nerves started to fail her. _Hurry up already! _Alim joined them a second later, holding his robes together with one hand and he readied his staff, followed by an very red-faced Alistair. She decided she did NOT need to know why his robes were half way undone as the shadows parted and out stepped…. a strange blonde dwarf.

"Hello!" Sandal exclaimed waving in excitement, his bright sapphire eyes shinning in the firelight. He was followed by a flea bitten ox pulling a cart. The heavy rhythmic thumping of the oxen's feet in the dirt was oddly in time with the protesting squeak of the cart's wheel. Bodhan sat in the driving seat, deftly steering the oxen about and reined the beast to a halt upon seeing their camp.

"You folks are hard to find!" The dwarf said, leaping down from his cart. He tethered the ox to an overturned tree and approached the group as they relaxed their battle stances and put away their weapons. His glance waivered between Alim and Mallory, as if unsure of who was in charge.

"What do you want, dwarf?" Alim scowled, tying his off his robe. He gave Mallory a -_This is what you bothered me for?-_look as he impatiently waited for the dwarf to respond.

"Well, you are formidable folks. With the darkspawn approaching and all, I thought it best to travel with the Grey Wardens. What could be safer than in your company, right? And I'll cut you a deal on any trade goods I have. Sundries, food, weapons I have some of all in my stock. What do you say?"

Mallory held her breath as she watched Alim's expression. _Take it! _She wanted to scream. _Take the offer, you stupid man! It will solve a lot of our supply problems. _Alim thought about it, but the look of annoyance that flitted across his face made her fear he would dismiss them outright without hearing what services they could provide.

"We expect a discount, not only for saving your lives, but for the protection we can offer on the road." Mallory interjected before Alim could send them away.

"Yes. Yes. Of course!" Bodhan replied. "And my son can enchant any weapons you may have at no cost."

"Enchantment!" Sandal beamed.

If Alim could have shot lightening from his eyeballs at her, the baleful glare he cast her way left her little doubt he would have tried. A range of emotions crossed his face in a matter of seconds. Ire, irritation, and disbelief before they melted into a sly smile.

"Very well. I accept your proposition." Alim said smoothly. "We are leaving at first light for Redcliff, so be prepared. I will not wait for you, should you fall behind. Work out the details with my subordinate here. The details of the deal and your safety will be her responsibility."

He indicated Mallory and without a further word left their company for the seclusion of the woods. Mallory watched him go, impressed with his guile. He had managed resolve the situation without them getting into another argument and reestablishing himself as the group's leader. The choice usage of the word subordinate had been clear. She was his inferior and all major decisions were to be deferred to him. He would not hesitate to abandon the dwarves so their safety and preparation was in her hands. _He considers me a threat to his power. _The only reason he felt the need to put her in her place, was to establish that he was still in control._ I'll need to be careful. If I'm a threat, he'll want to be rid of me. _Still, he had acknowledged her point earlier and trusted her to take care of the provisions even if it was to keep her from pestering him, so she would take what she could get. She smiled warmly at Bodhan as she shook his hand. As she guided him towards the fire to discuss terms she wondered who was more appreciative that it had worked out this way: Herself, for finally getting through to the mage, or Bodhan who seemed relieved as not to have to negotiate with the cranky elf.

* * *

The call of Ferelden's nocturnal insects could still be heard through the tent walls, albeit muffled. She procured the tents for free and a thirty percent discount off his wares with minimal haggling. After all, how could Bohdan put a price on saving their lives? Mallory shifted under her furs, willing her sore body to stop aching and go to sleep immediately. They had drawn lots to see who would take which shift of the night watch and who their partner would be. Mallory and Morrigan had drawn matching pieces of straw and were set to take third watch, right before dawn. Not a bad shift though she was unsure of the company. Morrigan was difficult to read and seemed to share a disposition similar to Alim, often lacking empathy. _No matter, _she thought. _We don't have to talk, just make sure the darkspawn don't sneak up on us in the middle of the night. Now, go to sleep._

Sleep continued to elude her as her brain refused to shut down. Despite the pain she was in, her mind raced with many questions she had unearthed from the day's experiences. She huffed in the dark and rolled over, her foot brushing the scale armor she had recently shed. She had needed Leliana's help to get out of the cumbersome armor, with all its confusing buckles and straps. Free of its confines, she had gone down to the small stream that banked their campsite to assess the damage and clean herself off. What she discovered had startled her. Cast in the reflection of the pale moon on the water's surface, a stranger stared back at her. Long gone was the extra weight from consuming too much fast food and the remnants if her last few years of sedentary lifestyle. Her body was now leaner and the muscles more defined. Hybris' use of the potions had left no physical scars on her body, but the effects of his torture could be seen on her face. Her eyes were gaunt and drawn, giving them a haunted appearance as they sat deep within the sockets, lined with shadows. She had lost any laugh lines that she had earned over time, her face leaving no trace of the happiness she had once known. Her wild and wavy hair released from her braid fell into her face completing the look: a woman on the edge of madness and desperation.

Mechanically, she scrubbed the dirt and sweat from her body as she examined herself further. The fingernails she had once polished and preened for a touch of femininity were ragged and torn off at the nail bed. Any hint of the sparkly purple polish she had once worn had long since flaked off. The highlights that had streaked her strawberry blonde hair were growing out and her legs that she had painstakingly waxed were starting to resemble a wookie's. She laughed at it all as she scrubbed away the filth. Every ritual she had put so much stock into meant nothing here. The darkspawn didn't care if her eyebrows were plucked or how quickly she could calculate interest charges. Her survival was attributed to her ability to hold a weapon and defend herself. She sloughed off the dried blood that covered her stomach, noting that lacerations caused be her armor would likely scar. The rough piece of linen she was using as washcloth came in contact with a small raised mark on her side: one of the few times a someone had gotten around Rocko's defenses and she had been clipped by the stirrup of another rider. She traced the point where the old scar would intersect the new. It seemed as symbolic as her baptismal washing in the stream: A melding of two worlds. She would never forget where she had come from, but she couldn't be that person if she wanted to survive. The gravity of the situation hit her. Behind the walls of Lothering, it had seemed so easy to assure herself that she could adapt and overcome the obstacles facing her. Now that she was in the woods, camping with strangers with the possibility of being attacked at anytime hovering over her, she no longer possessed such certainty.

These thoughts plagued her as she tried to sleep. Too many questions with no answers. _What am I doing? _The truth was, she had no idea. She tossed and turned for hours until sleep finally claimed her. Strange faces haunted her dreams with dark hands reaching and tearing at her. Distorted overlapping voices whispered into her ears, compelling her to do things she wouldn't recall when she awakened. After what felt like only a few minutes, Sten threw back the opening of her tent, letting the light from the campfire shine full force into her eyes.

"Muhh?" she mumbled as she stirred to find him staring at her with his trademark scowl.

"The time for resting is over. You are on watch." He rumbled.

"Gahhh. Already? I'll be up in a second. Gotta put on my armor." Mallory winced and rubbed her bloodshot eyes as she yawned in earnest. _Crap. My armor. How am I going to do this by myself?_

Sten grunted in acknowledgement, removing his head from her tent and letting the flap close once again immersing her in darkness. She struggled to stand and stubbed her toe on one of her boots as she went to retrieve the scale mail. Cursing, she threw her armor pieces outside the tent figuring it would be easier to don them outside by firelight. She rebound her chest and pulled on the small clothes the Chantry had given her and stepped into the night air. Rocko stirred from his place beside her tent. He opened one eye and supplied her with a single thump of his tail, then yawned and went back to sleep. She scanned the campsite to find Alistair pacing the area around camp, his back squared determinedly towards her scantly clad form. Mallory chuckled lightly as he began to whistle in an attempt to hide his embarrassment as she pulled on her leggings.

Alim poked his head out of his tent, staring daggers at the red faced templar. "Alistair, if you do not cease that infernal noise I will not hesitate to summon a lightening the next time you go for a bath.

Face even redder, Alistair stopped whistling and reverted to humming instead. Alim dramatically slammed his tent flap back down, grumbling some choice words before his tent fell silent. _He bloody made more noise than Alistair did. _Mallory observed. With some effort, Mallory was able to get into everything except her cuirass. She paused when she saw the massive splotches of bruising on her left side, noticing the odd color of one of them. She experimentally prodded the blackened blotch that was the size of a quarter below her floating rib. _Maybe I got hit harder than I thought? I don't think I've ever seen a bruise that ugly. Maybe that last blow from the club chipped a rib? _The contact of her fingers caused some mild discomfort, but not the nerve wrenching pain she would have associated with anything broken. _Weird. Maybe it just looks darker than it is because it's night. _Shrugging, she continued to struggle with buckling her chest piece until Sten lost his patience and with a disgruntled "Pashara" took over, buckling her in slightly tighter than necessary.

"Thanks." Mallory strained, trying not to breathe too deeply. "Good night, Sten."

"Marhadan. May you not die tonight." That was all he uttered before storming off to his bedroll. Unlike the others, he had refused a tent, preferring to sleep outside. Mallory watched him lay on top of the bedroll, not even bothering to take off his armor. He removed his sword from the sheath and positioned it next to his body, easily within reaching distance. He then propped his head up with his arm and wrapped his free hand around the hilt of his sword. The position appeared highly uncomfortable, but he could spring into battle at a moments notice. _Maybe that's why he's so cranky? He sleeps in his armor. May you not die? What is that supposed to mean? Some type of morbid way of saying goodnight? I can't tell for the life of me if he is being serious or sarcastic._

Mallory decided to let it go. She had enough to worry about without trying to decipher the cryptic Qunari. Loosening the buckles on her side so she could breathe, she clapped Alistair on the back, smirking when he started.

"Are you decent?" Alistair asked refusing to turn around.

"Hardly ever, but if you are referring to me being clothed, then yes. Yes, I am."

"Thank the Maker." He expelled with a relieved sigh.

"Hey!" She cried, hitting him in the shoulder. "I may not be pretty, but that's uncalled for."

"I-I that's not what- I mean – that isn't what I was implying! I just meant-Oh you're messing with me. Aren't you?" Alistair sputtered, impossibly red.

"Yup." Mallory took her post as Alistair finally dared to look at her. "Night Al. Sweet dreams."

"Yeah. Right." He muttered as he walked to his tent.

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* * *

"Like this?" Mallory held the ground elfroot aloft for Morrigan to inspect. The acrid and minty aroma of the dried herbs tickled her nose, making her feel like she was on the verge of sneezing as she crushed the leaves beneath the stone pestle.

"Finer. It must be a uniform color and be able to spread easily." The witch replied, glancing over at the contents of the mortar, before she wandered off back to her tent. Mallory went back to grinding the leaves, pleasantly surprised at what a patient teacher Morrigan was. This was how they had decided to occupy their watch. Mallory was glad the woman kept to herself and didn't pry. She only spoke when spoken to unless she had something she felt needed to be said. It was refreshing to not have to be quite so guarded and be given a task that didn't constantly remind her of her injury. In fact, Mallory would have considered herself quite content if it wasn't for the waves of discomfort that radiated from her ovaries. With her moontime approaching in full force, Mallory knew it was just the beginning. She never had a normal time of month, if she it even came once a month. More like once every few months with enough pain to make up for the times she missed. Her moontime typically resulted in two days of agony similar to dozen hyperactive children being set loose to pelt on her ovaries as if they were piñatas filled with sweets. The doctors had informed her she should have been grateful to even have a period with the extent of trauma her body had endured as a child. Mallory didn't often feel grateful when the time came. She typically wanted to curl into the fetal position in a cold dark room until it was over. Not having that luxury here, she gritted her teeth and clutched at her side when a strong wave of pain rolled over her.

"You should drink this. It will help." Morrigan held out a steaming cup of some kind of tea. Startled, Mallory looked up from her work, shocked to see the witch's knowing eyes meet hers. Mallory put down the mortar and pestle and took the cup from Morrigan's delicate hands, sniffing the brew experimentally. It didn't smell bad; somewhat nutty with a hint of fruit.

"Tis not poison, if that is your fear."

"But he has asked you to." It wasn't a question. Mallory wasn't stupid enough to believe that Alim wouldn't kill her to get her out of the way.

"Indeed."

Mallory took a slow sip, reveling in the warmth as it flooded her senses. "And you haven't acted on his orders yet. Why?"

"Why ask why? Isn't it enough to know that I haven't?"

Mallory gave her a deadpan stare as she drained the remains of her cup. She already felt a bit better with the cramps subsiding as the herbal tincture spread throughout her body. "I thought you and Alim shared… similar views."

"On some things, tis true. Stopping the Archdemon is our goal however. While he is quite capable in battle, he lacks the practically of someone who has lived outside the Circle. I fear his time as a pet mage to the Chantry has left him without an understanding of the outside world. I admit, I am also at a loss. While Flemeth taught me of survival, she never explained the details of human society. Like when it was appropriate to look into another's eyes or why there is so much needless touching. The questions you raised were valid and he had no answers to quell them. The rest of the party seems ill equipped to address these very real concerns. We can die just as easily from hunger as an enemy's blade."

"So I am only alive so long as I am useful."

"Perhaps. What will you do with this information?"

Mallory though about it for a bit. They needed Alim, that much was clear. So killing him wasn't an option unless he forced her hand. "Nothing. We need him."

"A most practical assessment."

"Where did you learn this?" Mallory asked, returning the cup to Morrigan. The effects of the potent herbs had already soothed her aches away. "You said it yourself. You are no healer."

"Tis true that my mother was a far better healer than I can ever lay claim to be. Many a Chasind woman has come to her, seeking remedies for similar aliments. Tis only natural I learned from watching her. To have such pain on the first day does not bode well. This speaks of difficulties. Am I correct in the assumption you cannot bare childer?"

Mallory said nothing, staring at the floor as her cheeks flushed in shame. She balled her fists up in an effort not to hit something. _Was it that apparent? Must everyone know of my shame?_

"I see." Morrigan replied. She handed a small satchel of herbs to Mallory. "Drink this to reduce the pain. Come to me when you require more."

"Why help me at all?"

"Tis smarter to ally with the stronger contender." She favored Mallory with a crafty smile and departed, leaving her to her thoughts.

Mallory nodded at this as she absorbed the witch's meaning. She clutched the satchel to her heart as she pondered her words. _She knows that I have the upper hand since magic cannot touch me. She'd rather I be an ally than her enemy. _After a moment, Mallory went back to grinding the elfroot deciding she'd make an effort to befriend the witch. After all, one must keep their friends close, but potential enemies closer still.

* * *

The rest of the evening was uneventful. Mallory and Morrigan spent the remainder of the watch drying and preparing more root for poultices in relative silence. As the first light of dawn began to peek through the boughs of the trees, Mallory surveyed their work. Twenty poultices in all, neatly packaged for easy of use and transportation. She was slightly taken aback when Morrigan handed her one "for her earlier injuries" before storing the rest in her pack. Waving to Leliana as she emerged and stretched to greet the morning, she retreated back to her tent as the rest of the camp stirred. Unbuckling her chest piece, she smeared the cool salve on her ribs, awed as the bruises disappeared before her eyes. All with the exception of one. The black bruise above her floating rib stubbornly refused to fade away. Mallory licked her thumb and rubbed it on the spot, thinking maybe it was soot from the fire she had mistaken for a bruise. The mark remained unscathed.

Frowning, she gave up on her new beauty mark, exiting her tent to seek out Morrigan. Alistair was setting up a cooking kettle on the tripod over the fire Leliana was building back up. _Looks like he's making good on his promise to cook breakfast. _Mallory mused as she walked by. She found the witch disassembling her tent.

"Morrigan, not to be ungrateful, but can I ask you a question about these poultices?"

"So full of questions, aren't you? Very well. I do not mind. Ask."

"What will these poultices heal? I mean, I know they aren't very potent, but what are the limits?"

The witch collapsed her tent, brushing her hands on her robe. "They will not cure your knee if that is what you are asking. The injury is far too old and they will only work on fresh wounds. Perhaps if a mage was present at the time of the injury, it could have been salvaged. But even magic has its limits and with your resistance to spells, I doubt even that would have worked."

"Magic has limits?"

"Of course. Everything does. Just as everything has a set of rules. But, you did not come for a magic lesson. Minor cuts, bruising, lesions, sprains, muscle aches, hairline fractures and other minimal ailments. For more traumatic injuries we will need a distillation agent to further tap into the healing abilities of the elfroot and make more potent salves."

"So, no curing the Blight with them then?" Mallory joked.

"I suspect if we could fashion a cure for the Blight, other than becoming a Grey Warden, your concerns about us financing this expedition would be laid to rest."

_Becoming a Grey Warden cures the Blight? _Mallory's head was a buzz with questions. This was new information to her. Just as she was about to ask Morrigan further questions, Alistair's voice rang out.

"Breakfast! Come and get it!"

Mallory's stomach rumbled on queue. She was starving! Temporarily forgetting her questions, she hobbled towards the bubbling kettle. She slowed down when she got close enough to get a whiff of the contents. She came to a screeching halt when she actually saw what was simmering inside the iron pot. Sludge. That was the first word that came to mind. Followed by gruel, slush, mush and ughhhh. It appeared to have been porridge of some sort at one time. Or at least some type of grain. That was all she could identify of the grey mass that occupied the kettle. Alistair spooned her out a large portion, having to violently shake the spoon to dislodge it into her bowl. He beamed at her with a proud smile as he waited for her to try it. She gazed around the camp, to see how the others were handling their own little bowl of ooze. Leliana was moving it around with her spoon as if trying to making it look like she had eaten some. Her dainty nose was crinkled in thinly veiled disgust. Sten had smelled the contents of his bowl and then tried to feed it to Rocko, who had shied away like it was Blighted. Alim- well, Alim was Alim.

"What in the name of the Veil is this?!" Alim cried, holding his spoon aloft from the bowl. A portion of the gray matter slowly oozed down the utensil and plopped audibly back into the bowl.

"It's breakfast." Alistair said defensively.

"It's disgusting!" Alim claimed, shoving the bowl back into Alistair's hands. For once, Mallory agreed with him.

"Heyyyyy. I worked hard on that."

"Not hard enough, apparently." Alim said.

"Well, I did they best I could with what I had."

"What exactly IS this, Alistair?" Mallory asked, pushing the mush around with her spoon. She found odd purplish chunks in it as she was inspecting it.

"It's poor man's porridge. The Sisters used to make it all the time at the Chantry for breaking our fast."

"What's in it?"

"Well, normally the Sister's would put dried fruit or honey in it to add flavor. We don't have any of that yet, so I used what Bodhan had."

"Which was?" Leliana asked as Mallory took an experimental bite. Mallory's face scrunched up as her taste buds came in to contact with the horrendous medley. She struggled to keep from spewing the contents on her comrades. It tasted as bad as Hybris had looked: revolting.

"Eggplant." Alistair finished, giving Mallory a sheepish grin. He rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. "It's not really that bad. Is it?"

Mallory forced herself to swallow. The lump of eggplant porridge slid down her throat at a snail's pace.

"It's… interesting." She managed. She felt like she had the worst case of cottonmouth and desperately needed water. "I'll be sure to put honey and dried fruit on the list of items for Bodhan to pick up at the next major city we stop by. Speaking of which, I best see what the dwarves are up too and start a list of supplies we will need. If anyone wants anything in particular, let me know and I'll see if we can fit it into the budget."

Despite the ravenous groans of her stomach, she spooned the remains back into the pot and left to check on Bodhan and Sandal, happy to be away from the stench of eggplant porridge. She decided to talk to Morrigan about cooking meals from now on, figuring it was better to chance a poisoning from the devil she knew.

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Handy Dandy Qunlat translator

***Marhadan- literally "until morning light". Good night.**


	7. Failure

Chapter 6

Failure

A person's definitions of words can change with both time and experience. Mallory had thought she knew the meaning of pain before she met Hybris. He had proven her wrong in more ways than she ever cared to remember. Her definition of the word had changed as the torture sessions progressed, each one redefining the word and adding more layers of complexity to its characterization. She found herself now reevaluating how she viewed the adjectives tired and hungry as well. Hunger was a relative term. Back on Earth, she thought she was hungry if a more than six hours had passed without consuming food. She reflected on all the times she had said she was starving in the past. She had been a fool. She had never known real hunger until recently when her skin hung loose from rapid weight lose and her body began to eat itself in desperation. The meager meals that were common in Ferelden were snacks compared to the portions of food she had once consumed. Though her stomach had shrunk considerably, she was still ravenous even after she had forced Alistair's porridge down her throat. She had believed she could go on without eating breakfast, but by the time they had packed up most of the camp her stomach was growling so loudly Alistair was making quips about her scaring away the darkspawn. She made herself eat a bowl of that disgusting mush just to have something in her before they began marching. The word hungry now had a completely different threshold since that experience, just like her usage of the word tired. She thought she had known exhaustion. Pulling double shifts while maintaining a relationship and household had pushed her to the point where she would sometimes need a full day's rest to feel recovered. That perspective had changed when Hybris had begun depriving her of sleep. Now, she found it was changing once again as the party marched along the Imperial Highway. She had slept very little and on top of watch and trying to keep pace with her comrades, her legs shook from fatigue.

Mallory stared at her feet, unaware of anything except putting one foot in front of the other. She was oblivious to the afternoon sun beating down on her and warming her scale mail to an uncomfortable temperature. Her teammate's banter had long ago faded into a constant droning noise as she concentrated on keeping herself moving forward. She had even lost track of the harsh sound of Bodhan's squeaky wagon wheel in the distance as Alim, Alistair, Morrigan and herself scouted ahead. The others were a good mile behind protecting the supply wagon while they cleared the road.

"—have you heard?" Alistair was whispering to her. "Morrigan and him are… you know. Mallory? Mallory? Hey you ok?"

"Huh?" Mallory stated, stumbling a bit as he interrupted her mental mantra of left foot, right foot. She looked up at Alistair's concerned face, blinking as the world rushed back to her. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just… tired that's all."

"Long night, huh? I can imagine its exhausting having to watch your back all night to make sure _she_ doesn't stick a knife in it." He jabbed his thumb in Morrigan's direction. Mallory saw the witch turn an ear towards the conversation, though she was several paces ahead of them. _Willing to bet she heard that. _

"Hmmm.. the Chantry boy is a gossip? Tsk Tsk. I don't think it's wise to gossip about our party members, Alistair. Especially the magically inclined ones."

"I am NOT a gossip. I just like to keep other party members informed of important news, that's all."

"Oh?" Morrigan asked, whirling viscously on Alistair. She slowed down so she was adjacent to Mallory, placing her squarely between the two. "So you feel it is your civic duty to pry into the lives of others and share those details with anyone who will listen? Do not be surprised, Mallory. Meddling in other people's lives is the very foundation of the Chantry."

_Great. Now I am in the middle of this. Exactly where I do not wish to be._ Mallory wracked her brain, desperate for a way to mitigate the tension without picking sides. _Not a good idea to get on Morrigan's bad side, especially since she's the only thing between me and a horrid death of poisoning._

"Well, in that case," She directed to Alistair, deciding on a way to end the conversation before things got really out of control. "Perhaps, you can tell me why you were so red faced when you went to fetch Alim the other night? You must have seen something worth sharing. Better yet, let's ask Morrigan. I'm sure she has some interesting input, if she wishes to discuss it."

Mallory threw a wink at Morrigan as the templar turned beet red and coughed. "Ya know, suddenly I don't feel much like talking about this anymore."

"Oh? I find that hard to believe." Morrigan replied slyly. "You were so eager to share your _intimate_ knowledge with her but a few moments ago. Perhaps you lack the facilities to comprehend what you saw? I could explain it if you like. In great detail."

"I'm not listening!" Alistair plugged his ears. "La la la la la!"

Mallory stifled a chuckle as Morrigan returned to Alim's side. She was grateful for the distraction and the laughter raised her spirits giving her a slight second wind. _Well, traveling with them will never being boring. That's for sure. I think I won a few points with Morrigan, while not hurting Alistair's feelings. Guess all those years in customer service was good for something. _While Mallory mulled over the practical application of her persuasion skills, she was suddenly hit by a strange sensation. Her skin began to crawl and it felt like she had wadded up a piece of tinfoil and began chewing on it. A wave of nausea passed over her as Alistair drew his sword and shouted.

"Darkspawn!" Alistair turned and banged on his shield with the flat of his blade to alert the others to stop the wagon and keep their distance while they dispatched the threat. "They come from the ground! Watch your backs!"

Mallory spared a fleeting thought on the others, hoping Leliana and Sten would stay with the cart to protect Bodhan and his boy. As she reached for her weapon, several Hurlocks burst forth from the tree line. They fell into a V-shaped formation, surrounding a rather imposing looking darkspawn with metal spikes protruding from his head. Two archers flanked him on either side as the remaining Hurlocks fanned out to attack the party. Morrigan and Alim were casting offensive spells, their chanting oddly in unison as fireballs rained down on their enemies. Mallory watched the battle unfold in slow motion, assessing who was the greatest threat to take down. Her eyes met those of the one darkspawn being protected by the archers and comprehension dawned on her as he raised his twisted staff skyward. _Mage!_

Static and the smell of ozone permeated the air as lightening crashed down onto Alistair. The templar staggered under the force of nature, using his shield to deflect a portion of the energy. He gritted his teeth in obvious agony as the residual bolts arced over his plate mail. Mallory watched her friend grimace in pain and decided on her target. She hefted her maul over her shoulder and willed her legs to move. In the excitement of battle, her fatigue was replaced by adrenaline as she rushed past the others, eager to take out the Emissary before he could attack again. The Emissary cackled wickedly as neon green light frothed from the tip of its staff. Casting with its free hand, the darkspawn hurtled the magical bolt at Mallory. Mallory continued to run to the best of her ability as the bolt smashed into her and turned the battle field into a rave. Blinking rapidly to try and clear her eyes of the neon lights, she shrugged off the malevolent spell and did her best to ignore the arrows flying uncomfortably close to her. One struck her armor so hard the shaft splintered, sending wooden shrapnel flying around her. Another arrow found purchase in her flesh and struck her thigh with enough force to penetrate her armor, but did not go cleanly through her leg. With a guttural cry, she forced herself to continue on, using the pain to fuel her building rage.

She thrust out the pommel of her maul as she came within striking distance and smashed the Emissary in the face. Magic dissipated around them as the creature's spell was interrupted and it fell backwards. An arrow came within inches of her face as Mallory blotted out the rest of the battle and focused on destroying the mage threat. She brought her hammer down on its head, smashing the skull with a sickening sound. The darkspawn's fingers still twitched on its staff as she let the dead weight of the maul fall on it again and again. The archers around her were engulfed in flames as Alim brought down fire on them. Mallory turned to engage one the remaining Hurlocks feeling quite proud of herself. _I wish Sten could have seen me take out that darkspawn. _She thought. _Then he would see he was wrong about me! I can fight!_

She confidently squared off with the Hurlock Alpha determined to best the powerful brute in horned armor. With a mighty roar, she swung the maul overhead with her full force, only to be blocked by the Alpha's claymore. Shocked, Mallory didn't react fast enough to the creature turning its blade and effortlessly knocking the maul out of her hands. Only when she felt the cold steel enter her side did she realize she was out matched and that the battle hardened Alpha had defeated her less than a minute. Mallory dared to glance at the wound, noting with a sick feeling it straight through her body. Her breath hitched in her throat as the Hurlock Alpha turned the blade around in the wound and continued to drag it the opposite way through her oblique muscles, scrapping her ribs. It erupted from her side showering her with blood and bits of her own entrails. She was vaguely aware of Alistair calling her name as she fell to her knees. She could see him running towards her, shield bashing a Hurlock out of the way. _It's ok. _She wanted to tell him. _It.. It doesn't even hurt. _But he got so fuzzy she never got a chance as her eye lids involuntarily closed and the world went black.

* * *

"Mallory! NO!" Alistair bellowed in horror as the Hurlock cut into his friend like a Feastday ham. She fell to her knees with a stricken look as the Hurlock shook her blood of his weapon and roared a challenge to Alistair. Acting purely on instinct, Alistair shield bashed a Hurlock moving to intercept him and charged the Alpha Hurlock. He pummeled the oversized Hurlock with his shield, staggering the creature before striking him with his sword. The Alpha tried to counter, but Alistair was too quick and slashed open its chest and throat before it could fully raise its weapon.

The Alpha Hurlock fell to the earth with a gurgling cry as Alistair knelt down to examine his friend. He pressed his gauntleted hand across her abdomen to staunch the blood flow and looked around for assistance. The rest of the darkspawn were dead and Alim and Morrigan were methodically looting their corpses with little care about Alistair or their injured companion.

"Help!" Alistair cried to them.

Alim didn't even look up. "With what? And how? I'm no healer. And even if I was, I couldn't help her. Immune to magic, if you recall her lording that over me. Now stop wasting time and get to looting these bodies. She's dead weight now. Leave her."

Alistair just stared at Alim, unable and unwilling to comprehend what he had just heard. They were just going to leave her, just like that? How could he do such a thing? The Wardens had always represented the best of what every race had to offer and he was stuck with this man as one of the last Wardens. Alistair could safely say he had never hated anyone before aside from Loghain, but Alim was a close second. _This time I going to do more than tell him off.. I'll .. I don't know. I'll fight him ... or something.. except.. except that would mean the others would look to me for orders. And I would be the last Warden. I can't. I can't lead. I can't take be responsible for their lives.. I can't.. Mallory..I… _Alistair looked away from Mallory in shame, torn between helping his friend and the consequences if he did. He startled when her hand suddenly grabbed his bicep. Her eyes were wide open from both pain and anger.

"Not.. dead.. yet." She said through gritted teeth. "Help me up."

Alistair gasped in shock as she began to haul herself up by his arm. Her freckled face was paler than normal from anguish and blood loss, but her determined appearance was what convinced him not to argue. As cautiously as he could, he aided her in standing. She wobbled for a split second, but stood her ground after a few moments.

"My weapon." She pointed towards the heavy maul she wielded, not asking but commanding Alistair to fetch it for her. After a second's hesitation, he bent down to retrieve the two handed maul and placed the grip in her open palm. She leaned on it slightly as she watched Alim with hooded eyes. Her hand was slick with blood that was still pouring from the gaping wound in her side as she put pressure on the wound.

Alim faced her, his lips pulled down into an unattractive frown. A muscle twitched just below his left eye and Alistair felt the sudden urge to back down under his weighty stare. He took a careful step backwards as the two faced off in a silent battle of wills. Alim's thumb brushed the polished wood of his staff as he assessed her condition and weakness. Alistair wondered if the mage was calculating the odds of attacking her and surviving. Mallory straightened and swung the maul with apparent ease on her shoulder, never flinching from his gaze as if daring him to try and finish her off.

"Still with us I see?" Alim said dryly.

Mallory flipped him a cool smile, but her eyes smoldered. Alistair knew she had heard every word about leaving her behind. "Just a flesh wound. I've had worse. Sorry to worry you."

"Indeed." Alim stated. Alistair thought they would be at each other's throats at any second, but Alim then broke eye contact. Just like that, all of the tension in the air evaporated as their power play ended. Mallory turned to Alistair and spoke quietly to him.

"I'm going to check on the wagon and make sure everyone's ok. I'll send Leliana back to take my place and stay behind to guard the supplies."

Alistair just nodded in shock and slightly in awe of the woman as she limped away from the battle field.

* * *

When she was safely out of sight, Mallory stopped holding back the tears of pain that had been threatening to overflow the entire time she had put on a show for Alim. Her injury was far worse than she let him believe. She was fairly certain her hand was the only thing keeping part of her intestines where they belonged. She didn't want to think about it too much. In her time with Hybris she had become more personally acquainted with her innards than anyone ever should have to experience. She stumbled along the road leaving a trail of bloody footprints while praying no straggling darkspawn would come across her. Lifting her maul to bluff Alim had been a mistake, and she could feel where the muscle and flesh had torn further. She would not be able to wield the weapon until she healed and would be utterly defenseless if someone attacked her now. The wagon had just come into view when the last of her strength failed her and she fell to her side.

"Mallory!" Leliana yelled as she ran over to the injured woman. "Andraste's Grace! What happened?!"

"Darkspawn. Everyone's ok. I'm to hurt too badly to be much use as a scout. Can you go join Alistair and the others? I will have to stay back with the wagon." Rocko whined in concern as he nuzzled her head. "I'm ok boy."

"You are injured. I'll not leave you like this!" Leliana objected as Sten approached with Bodhan driving the cart behind him.

"Serrah!" Bodhan exclaimed upon seeing her condition. "Quickly, get her up on the cart! I've got something to treat that."

Despite her weak protests, Sten and Leliana lifted her onto the back of the cart and laid her down on a bare spot among the supplies. Bodhan jumped over the seat of his cart and began rifling thru his goods. After a few moments of frantic searching, he produced a small burlap bag and handed it to Leliana.

"What is that?" Mallory asked as Leliana dumped the contents of the sack on the wooded planking of the cart. She could make out what looked like a jumble of thread, some needles, and a few tiny glass vials of liquid among an assortment of other odds and ends. She tried to prop herself up on her elbow to see more, but Leliana pushed her back down and snapped the top off one of the vials.

"Basic injury kit. Drink this." She said handing the vial to Mallory. "It's for the pain."

Trusting her friend, Mallory tipped the contents down her throat. The liquid was smooth and sweet, and left her tongue numb where it touched. Mallory attempted to hand the vial back to Leliana, but missed the bard's hand completely sending the vial crashing onto the ground. Her vision blurred and Leliana became twins, both with the same fretful visage.

"Ooops!" Mallory giggled as the powerful drug took effect. Her head was a balloon, soaring amidst the cumulus that scatter the sun's rays. She blacked out just as she heard Leliana order Sten to help with removing her armor.

* * *

_Blood. There was blood everywhere, black as midnight. It covered the world like the Maker had haphazardly knocked a giant inkwell over and it leaked from the heavens to smother all of Thedas. It coated her hands as Mallory flexed them in the moonlight. They didn't look like the hands she vaguely remembered. All the flesh was shrunk and mummified, with bit of tendon and ivory bone shining through in select places. A distant roar sounded as Mallory looked up in elation. The Old One flew overhead, his massive shadow passing over the black world as his silhouette blocked out the moon. She raised her arms in the air and screamed a primal roar of victory. She had killed recently in His name as evident by the fresh blood on her hands. Lightening flashed in the sky, illuminating her kill. The body was mangled as if she had torn it apart with her bare hands. Blood matted the red hair of her victim, defiling any hint of the beauty the woman had possessed in life. Leliana's one remaining blue eye stared accusingly at the thing that had once been Mallory as she ripped off the bard's arm and began to feast._

* * *

Mallory awoke with a start as the wheel of Bodhan's cart went over a jagged rock, jarring her from her drug induced slumber. Someone had placed her head on a pile of hay while she slept and she brushed a few tickling strands off her nose as she sat up and cast off the blanket that had been draped over her. Expecting pain from moving while injured, she was surprised at only mild discomfort as she sat up and shielded her eyes from the three o'clock sun. Her chest piece was off to the side leaving her torso bare save for her bloodied bindings. Many neat stitches dotting her side were all that was left of the gaping wound that had previously graced her abdomen. She ran her fingers along the wound shocked at the pink new skin that was being held by the stitches. _Months of healing in a matter of hours! This is amazing!_ She cast her gaze around to orientate herself. Her maul was at her side within easy reach while Sten was walking besides the cart, no doubt keeping an eye out for trouble. Bodhan was driving the cart with Sandal at his side. The blonde dwarf sat contently next to his father, humming to himself while playing with a rock.

"Feeling better, serrah?" Bodhan asked. "That was a nasty wound you had, if you don't mind me saying."

"Yes, my thanks to you."

"Anytime. You helped me an my boy. We are forever grateful."

Sandal's bright eyes focused on her and he held out the shiny rock he was playing with.

"Boom!" He said enthusiastically.

Mallory nodded, a bit disturbed by the odd dwarf and continued to look around for her companions. Rocko acknowledged her with a bark as she peered over the edge of the cart. She smiled warmly at the dog as he launched himself into the back of the wagon and proceeded to lick her to death.

"Ack. Ok. No! Stop! Gross! That was in my mouth! Yuck!" She spouted as she tried to push the dog off her. Finding herself still too weak to be able to fully fight back, she relented until the mabari was satisfied she had been thoroughly cleaned of blood and sat down at her side. As she petted him, she spoke to Sten.

"Leliana is with the others?" She inquired.

"Your grasp of the obvious is astounding." He replied in a sarcastic tone.

Mallory couldn't help but feel insulted. What had she done to deserve that? Hadn't she just almost died to protect them? Did he have no sympathy?

"Why are you so hostile?"

"Why does everyone always say that? If I was hostile, you would be bleeding. Even more so than you were."

"You act like you're angry with me."

"Yes."

Mallory sighed. _It's like trying to get water from a stone. Maybe I'm asking the wrong questions. _

"Ok. Why are you angry with me?"

"Do not waste time asking me questions you already know the answers to."

Mallory started to sigh again and stopped herself. Instead she was quite for a while as she thought about what he said. After several moments of introspection while she buckled her armor back on, she finally had her answer.

"You are angry because I have delayed our goal by becoming injured."

Sten gave no answer, only walked silently ahead.

"Because according to you, I have no business fighting anyways."

Again no answer.

"Not only because I am a woman, but because I lack the discipline and training required. You believe I am jeopardizing the mission by forcing the others to look after me and waste resources."

The silence lingered for a moment more before he finally responded. "You cannot be what you are not. You see the truth of this, yet you still fight against it. Struggle is an illusion."

"Struggle is an illusion? I don't understand what that means. How is it an illusion?"

"You are not able to understand any more than I am fit to explain it to you."

"What?! That doesn't make any sense!" Mallory almost yelled, getting agitated.

Sten's eyes pierced into her as he leveled a stare her way. He spoke very slowly as if she was inept. "You are not a warrior."

"Then teach me!" Mallory practically screamed. "Let me learn so I can be of use!"

"No."

Mallory had heard enough. She retrieved her maul and jumped down from the wagon. Positioning herself along side Sten, she continued to press him for answers, refusing to give up. "Why? Is it because I'm a woman? If it helps, you can start thinking of me as a man."

"Impossible. You would be nothing but frustrated."

"I already am frustrated." She mumbled to herself. "Who are you to tell me who I am? Or who I can be?"

"That is not my role. You must speak to the Tamassran."

Mallory facepalmed. "Well, I don't see a Tamass…Tass.. whatever it was you just said anywhere here, do you? So that means I've got no choice but to depend on you to teach me. Alistair uses a sword and shield so he can't help. Leliana a bow and the other two are mages. You're the only one that can wield a two handed weapon, like me. How am I supposed to find out who I am without searching and learning? I've spent my entire life with people telling me who I am and what to think. I have a second chance here to remake myself and become who I am supposed to be. I want to fight. I need to be able to do this. Since I have… emerged from the Wilds….horrible things have happened to me. Things that changed me. I can no longer stay the same. Does this make any sense?"

"Perhaps it was your role to experience those things. Suffering is a choice, and we can refuse it."

Mallory almost stopped dead in her tracks. _Is he.. Is He ACTUALLY suggesting that my role in life is to be a victim?! NO! I refuse to believe that! _But even as she thought about it he mind displayed all the times she had been taken advantage of. All the lies she had been fed and all the pain others had inflicted on her. She thought about how many times she had been used and allowed herself to be used. She didn't want to believe it, but there was a pattern developing. A broke system where she had continued to seek out individuals that would cause her grief. Or where she would refuse to abandon those who had harmed her out of some misplaced sense of loyalty. Even Alim, who had threatened to ditch her and poison her, she let him live when he wouldn't have lifted a finger to save her life.

"HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?" She raged. "HOW CAN YOU ACTUALLY BELIEVE THAT? YOU HAVEN'T BEEN THROUGH WHAT I HAVE! YOU DON'T KNOW ME! HOW CAN YOU? I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO I AM!"

She wanted to strike him. Her fists shook with fury as she stared him down, wanting him to say something, anything to give her justification to attack him. Rocko growled at Sten from the back of the cart, ready to defend her if the Quanri made a move.

"When I was caged, you brought me water. You stated because that is who you are. Is it truly? Or are you so desperate to fight your role you will do anything to become something different? Even rush headlong into battle untrained? By your own admittance, you know nothing of yourself. Mastery of the self is mastery of the world. Loss of the self is the source of suffering."

It was the most he had ever spoken to her, and for once she wished he had never said a word. "You're wrong! I'll prove it to you! No! You know what? I'll prove it to MYSELF. I'm not here to impress you!"

She stormed off towards the front of the cart with Rocko at her heels, leaving the unfazed Qunari behind. Over the squeak of the wheel and the blood rushing in her ears, she did not hear him reply.

"We shall see."

* * *

Mallory had volunteered to collect firewood again while the others made camp. She was still seething over what Sten had said and wanted to be as far away from the giant as possible. She was humiliated at her failure, angry at herself for being reckless, and full force into her moontime so she figured being alone was a better option than becoming an emotional wreck where everyone could see her. Rocko bounded ahead of her occasionally bringing her choice sticks before bounding off again. It was cute, but even the dog's playful mannerisms couldn't penetrate her sour mood. _How dare he! Who does he think he is, telling me what I can or can't do! He doesn't know the first thing about me! He never even gave me a chance. Why won't he train me? He acts so superior, but if you ask for help he refuses! Is he too good to train me? Is that it? Jerk!_ She ranted in her mind as she picked up another stick. The stitching in her side stretched painfully as she bent down. This incensed her, reminding her of her weakness –her uselessness- and she threw down her firewood in ire. Tearing the buckles open on her chest piece she cast it aside, eager to rip away the stitches: the evidence of her failure. Doubt overwhelmed her as she began pulling at the waxed thread. _What an idiot I was, thinking I could do this. He's right! I'm only going to get in the way or get myself killed. Or worse, I'll get someone else killed. I never should have come along. I should have just stayed in Lothering. I'm only angry at him because I know he speaks the truth and I didn't want to hear it! _Kneeling, she tore at the thick thread with her stubby nails and succeeded in pulling one of them out when Rocko returned. The dog whined and dropped his stick on the ground. He approached her and threw a large paw on top of her knee as if asking her to stop. Mallory snarled at the mabari and attempted to push him off of her but the animal wormed his way in under her arms and pressed his body against her.

"Stop!" She cried trying to push the dog off her. Rocko just leaned into her further. "Get off me! I don't want you here! I don't …" _I don't deserve your love._

Rocko whined as she began to weep, nuzzling her with his head. She threw her arms around the animal, feeling the stress and aches and pains of the day melt away as she held him. He draped a massive paw around her waist in an imitation of a hug and happily panted. This was why she loved animals. They didn't care how she failed, as long as she loved them and treated them with respect, they would always be there for her. They would keep any secret and never betray her trust. So many people had failed her or disappointed her, but the animals in her life had never had. They always seemed to know when she was in pain and were willing to share it. Mallory choked back a sob as she clung to the dog surprised at all the feelings she had been holding back. It was so freeing to be able to cry without the fear of being judged and to morn all that she had lost. She had never given herself the chance to truly grieve. She had spent too much time focusing on learning about her new world and forcing herself to overcome her lameness to have any time for sorrow. Every spare moment she had was dedicated to survival. Now that she was facing more obstacles and the very real possibility of failure, she hadn't realized how downhearted she had become. Every mundane task, from gathering firewood to walking was presenting a challenge and bringing new pain. She wept for the simple joy of running that had been unfairly stolen from her. She shed tears over the loss of her potential and the unfairness of it all. She sobbed over her fears and disappointments, acknowledging that it would only become more difficult as time passed. She cried until all her self pity, frustration, and anger had drained from her and she could cry no more. When she was done, she thanked Rocko and put her chest piece back on noting with some pride she was getting faster at donning her armor.

"I may not be a warrior, but I am a fighter in my own way. I'm a survivor." She said to Rocko. "Not a victim."

"Woof!"

Mallory wasn't sure if he was agreeing with her or not, but she smiled nonetheless, wiping away any trace of tears.

"Just… don't tell anyone I cried ok?" Gathering up her firewood, they walked back to camp.


	8. Supply and Demand

**Kinda a boring chapter. Sorry, was needed to establish some things in the next chapter. Thanks to all those that have commented! I really appreciate it. Your comments help keep this story alive. Trying to write angst without going into wagnst. It's a difficult balance to keep. And Sten, I love you but you are hard to write sometimes. **

Chapter 7

Supply and Demand

The peaks of RedCliffe Castle were just visible from the top of the hill; the flags of the keep waivered gently in the morning breeze. A few birds flew over the picturesque lake that bordered the town casting shadows over the shimmering waters of Lake Calenhad. It seemed eerily still, even devoid of any fishing boats as Mallory would have expected for this early in the morning. From her high vantage point, she could make out a single house a few miles down the road and some details of the town further into the valley. Mallory scanned the horizon trying to determine what was out of place as she began to feel unsettled. _There's no smoke from the chimneys. _She noticed, gazing out from her vantage point. The chill in the morning air was enough to cause her breath to condense, leaving a billowing cloud of vapor behind her as she edged closer to the cliff side to get a better view. _Odd_. _Why are there no fires? It's got to be in the 50s._ _Something doesn't seem right. Should I mention it to the others?_

She looked over her shoulder at the rest of the group. Bodhan was adjusting the harness on his ox, tightening the straps for the treacherous journey down the cliffs. The cart was too wide and the roads in too poor condition to safely get it down into town from the path they had taken. While there were other ways into Redcliffe, time was of the essence, so the dwarf and his son opted to take the long way around and meet up with them later. Since the dwarves were her responsibility, she was to travel with them as an escort along with Sten and Rocko, while the others went into town. She returned her gaze to the serene town, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. _Probably for the best. If Alistair or Leliana fuss over my injury one more time, I may say unkind things. Though.. alone on the road with Sten.. words cannot express my feelings of elation. _She was still bitter over the confrontation that she and the Qunari had: mainly because his words had touched a nerve. After thinking on what he had said, she bared him no true ill will for expressing his opinions, though she was certain it was only a matter of time until another confrontation broke out among them. He was the only one that could teach her and she wasn't about to relent no matter what he said to deter her.

"Everything looks so different from up here." Alistair said, joining her in overlooking Redcliffe.

"I'll bet. Like smaller, for example."

Alistair chuckled a bit before quieting down. Mallory flicked her eyes toward him, noting the worry lines across his forehead. "Something on your mind, Al? You seem distracted. Not too thrilled to be back?"

"No…it's not that. It's just… complicated. There's something I should tell you."

"If your about to confess your undying love, it's traditional to do it at sunset, not dawn. And probably not wearing heavy armor on a ledge where we could both fall to our death."

"Oh but that's the best part, see. If you break my heart, I can throw myself off the cliff …_Or.. _go sulk and cry by that tree over there."

"That poor tree."

"I know right."

They shared a jovial laugh, Mallory glad that someone in the party had a sense of humor. After they caught their breath, Alistair sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

"What was I saying?… Oh right! Soooo.. Turns out I'm Maric's son. King Calin's half brother. Imagine that. No big deal right. Oh look! Ducks!" Alistair pointed behind Mallory. She kept her eyes focused firmly on his face, her mind racing at the news. The pieces were slowly fitting together from all the talks they had shared along the road and overhearing his conversations with the others. _That means Alistair is the heir to the throne if Ferelden monarchies are anything like the ones on Earth. No wonder why Arl Eamon sent him to the Chantry. A way to keep him at hand and groom him to be the perfect political puppet. He said his mentor had to .. what was the term he used? Conscript. His mentor had to basically draft him into the Wardens by invoking the Right of Conscription. No wonder the Chantry didn't want to let him go. He would have made a great political pawn if King Calin every got out of bounds. I bet poor Alistair never even thought of the possibility. _

"Right. Ducks. I'm guessing you just _forgot _to mention this until now?"

"About the ducks?" Alistair asked hopefully. Mallory gave him a deadpan glare.

"Errr… not _exactly." _He stated abashed. "Look, I'm really sorry. I should have said something earlier. It's just, anyone who found out.. well, it always changed how they treated me. I guess I just didn't want that to happen."

"Does that mean you are next in line to become King?"

"Me? King?" Alistair stammered. "NO No no no nooooo! I can't be King! Can you imagine? Me talking with Orlesian diplomats! I'd start a war. Probably over something stupid. Like what color looks best on the Empress's new toy dog."

Mallory thought about it. _Pity he's such a push over. He's a good guy, but no, I can't see him as King. Not when he turns to people like Alim for guidance because he's too afraid to be responsible for the consequences of his choices. _Instead of speaking her mind though, she sighed wistfully and feigned disappointment. "Alright. If you're that adamant about not becoming King then I guess there's no point in buttering you up, huh? What a pity. I was already scheming ways to win you over so you could award me all sorts of fancy titles."

"Like Mistress of Really Big Scary Hammers?"

"Awww.. and that would have been a good one too. See. Now you're just rubbing salt in the wound."

Alistair chuckled. "Well, I don't have to be King to come up with titles. Let me know if you want another one any time. Just.. don't tell Alim ok? Maker knows what he would do if he found out."

_Probably find a way to put you on the throne so he could rule through you as an "advisor." _Mallory thought. _I agree. He doesn't need to know._ She gave him an over dramatic half-bow as best she could and replied, "As your Majesty wishes."

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" Alistair groaned.

Mallory gave him a wink as she went to help Bodhan, deciding to tease him one last time. "And to think, Morrigan questions your intelligence."

"Ha ha ha."

* * *

_Why does she continue to stare? Has she nothing better to do? Vashedan! Here she comes. With more questions, no doubt. Questions. Questions. Are the bas so lost all that they must question everything? And then act like children when they hear answers they do not wish to hear?_ Sten frowned as Mallory approached him. He was enjoying the peaceful walk around the hill side and was content with the quiet. Now this bas was going to disturb that peace for her own selfish wants.

"I want to talk to you." She said, falling into step next to him.

"Very well."

"I thought about what you said.. and you were right."

_Unexpected. _He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

"I'm not a soldier. I've never even held a weapon before until recently. But I want to learn. I want to help. Isn't that worth something?"

"This is not your fight. Why involve yourself?"

"You're wrong." She replied stonily. "This is everyone's fight."

_A sense of duty? Also unexpected._

She was silent for a moment before addressing him again. "You're free. You could go anytime. Isn't that why you're still here?"

"No."

She appeared shocked, blinking rapidly. "Then why are you here? You have an answer for your Arishok about the Blight, don't you? "

"Yes. I cannot return home."

"Oh… I'm sorry." There was a brief but strong emotion that flitted across her features before she suppressed it. Loss.

It was Sten's turn to be surprised. "Thank you."

"I don't understand. Why can't you go home?"

"I have lost my soul."

"Errrr.. ok? Still not understanding."

He sighed. Must he explain everything in detail? It was becoming taxing to recall all the words of the bas language. "My sword. My brethren and I were attacked by darkspawn. We were taken by surprise. I was knocked unconscious. When I awoke, a group of farmers had found me and were helping me recover but my sword was missing."

She tugged absently on her armor, gazing up at him with a wrinkled brow as if deep in thought. "Sounds like what I heard happened at Ostagar. Is that why you killed the farmers? Because you thought they stole your sword?"

"No. I knew they didn't have it. I panicked and in my rage slaughtered them."

"Wow. Ok. Seriously, I have no idea how to respond to that Sten. You killed them over a weapon?"

"That sword was made for my hand alone. To return to Par Volen without it, is to be named a traitor. I would be killed on sight. I cannot return."

She was silent a while longer as they walked along the rocky path. The dog bounded a head, barking at a squirrel that was chattering at them from a tree along the road. Other than the sounds nature and the footfalls of the beast of burden pulling the cart, the road was blessedly silent. Sten had just begun to enjoy it when she spoke again.

"I.. I think I understand. I know of a group of people called the samurai. They lived and died by their swords. To have their sword taken from them was to be casteless- stripped of all honor. Many of them would have rather have died then have parted from their weapon."

_Interesting. _He had never heard of these samurai before._ I shall have to inform the Arishok once I find more information on them. If they are as she says, their roles will change little under the Qun. _

She was still prattling on and interrupted his thoughts. _Do they never stop talking? _"-maybe we can find your sword. Where did you last see it?"

_Another surprise. _Sten raised an eyebrow, breaking his normally indifferent visage. "Your words may be hollow, but if you wish. I was on the far side of Lake Calenhad when the darkspawn attacked."

"Hmmm…" she pondered. "Well, we have to stop by there to talk to the Circle anyways. No harm in asking around. Maybe someone has it. What does it look like?"

He described the sword in detail: the worn rawhide braided handle, the gentle curve of the hilt with two holes near the tang, the jagged blade with a serrated edge on the top-most side. He knew every inch of his weapon and recited the details as if they were a poet's words.

"It sounds like a very unique looking sword. We'll keep an eye out. You never know, perhaps we'll find it, and that way you can go home. In the mean time, you can stay with us."

"Perhaps." Was all he committed to. _Maybe I was wrong about her._

"Soooo… about you teaching me to fight…"

_Then again, perhaps not._

* * *

"Whoa!" Bodhan shouted, reining in his ox. The beast snorted as it came to a stop, pawing the ground in impatience.

"What's going on?" Mallory asked Bodhan as she hopped down from the back of the cart. They had been walking for three hours up and down hills and her feet were throbbing along with her knee. Shielding her eyes from the glare of the afternoon sun, she walked around the cart and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the issue. "Oh great."

Rocko whined in distress as he approached the obstacle, sniffing around the base. In the middle of the road sat a huge obstruction. Sharpened logs were driven into the red earth, their points facing outward ready to pierce armor and flesh. Though it appeared to have been constructed in a hurry, the structure was solid and imposing, offering no way around them save for a few inches between the bulwark and the steep walls of the cliffs that the road ran through.

"Why did they block it off?" She asked no one in particular.

The dwarf shrugged. "I've been this way many times, serrah. It's never been closed before. Maybe they got wind of the approaching horde and are taking precautions?"

"Yeah, but wouldn't they post guards? Is this the only way in?" Mallory asked Bodhan.

"No, there is another passage, but it will take hours to get there. It's towards the northwest and it winds around the lake."

_Something isn't right. Smokeless chimneys and now guardless, barricaded roads. I don't like this._ "Sten!" She shouted waving the giant over. "Is there any way we can get around this."

The Qunari studied the fortification, testing the buried logs by shoving on them will all his strength. They didn't move much even under his tremendous assault. Finally, he reported back to her. "Improbable. It would take several hours of digging and removing the logs to widen the passage enough for the wagon. We would both be exhausted even with the help of the beast. It would leave us defenseless until we recovered."

Mallory groaned in frustration, running her hands through her matted hair. _Ok. We HAVE to get supplies. Soon. I'm going to have to go in there and find out what's going on. First things first: Get Bodhan and the wagon to safety. _

"Bodhan?" She asked. "Is there any place around here that you can park the cart?"

"There's a merchant camp about a half mile west from here. Used to use it when the city got too crowded during festivals. It's nothing fancy, but it there's fresh water and it's at the top of a hill, so it's defensible."

"Good, head there. There's no point in us walking all the way around the lake to run into another barricade. Sten stay with Bodhan and Sandal and watch after them. You too, Rocko. I'm going to see what's going on and try to get the road clear. I'll either come back or send a messenger with more news as soon as I can."

"This is not our mission." Sten growled. He folded his arms across his chest and gave her a stern look. "We were ordered to stay with the wagon."

"Sten," She stated a little more forcefully than she intended. "If you want to get technical, I was ordered to get supplies. We can't get to the supplies with the barricade in the way. If we don't restock here, who knows how long it will be until we can get more goods."

"Orzammar's the next nearest trading post." Bodhan offered. "It's a two to three week journey up into the Frostback Mountains, serrah. If we don't stock up here there will be very rough times ahead. The Frostbacks are known to claim many lives by snow and starvation."

"Thank you, Bodhan." She gave the Qunari a _see I told you so_ glare.

Sten muttered something under his breath, but relented with a sigh. "Very well. Do not delay."

"Sten will protect you." She reassured Bodhan. "Go to the camp and wait for me there. I'll see if I can either get the road clear or get someone to meet us half way and drive some goods up here so we can unload. Thank care. You too Sandal!"

The blonde dwarf fixated his unusual blue eyes on her, giving her an almost comical grin. "Goodbye lady!" He shouted waiving his stubby hand as the cart turned around.

_Well, _Mallory thought as she squeezed between the bulwark and the cliff side. _At least HE could tell I'm female._

* * *

_What is going on here? This place is a proverbial ghost town._ Mallory pondered as she made her way down the steep path. She had passed a few homes but they had been completely deserted. The street ended towards the docks, at a hub for traders to load and unload cargo from merchant vessels. Nets were stretched out, drying in the sun, while birds picked at the fish that had been left to rot. Tools and carts were abandoned as if the merchants had stopped mid task and fled without bothering to gather their property. Gagging on the smell, Mallory pushed forward, searching for any sign of life.

Stepping onto the docks offered some relief from the stench, with the warm breeze from the lake diffusing the odors. She followed the rickety dock along the water line until a sudden noise made her jump. Arming herself, she listened again as the strange rhythmic thumping noise continued. Cautiously rounding the edge of a building, she spied the culprit: a hanging wooden sign banging against the building in the breeze. Feeling silly, Mallory put away her maul and stopped the sign with her hand. The worn sign bore faded, yet still legible words: GENERAL STORE.

_Finally! _Mallory knocked hesitantly on the door though she had a feeling it was empty. "Hello?" No answer. Unlatching the door, she pushed it open, peering into the darkness. The shadows clung heavily to the corners, but nothing stirred inside. Sighing with relief, she propped a crate against the door and let herself in. _Wonder where the proprietor went? _A few scatter notes littered the floor. Curious and hoping they may give her some idea what happened to this place, she picked up a few and scanned them in the dim light. One was a tattered shopping list, noting a few sundries and staples including ginger for someone's flatulence. _Ok.. TMI. _She thought balling up the note and tossing it back on the floor. The second seemed to be a sales slip of some sorts. It was hand written to a Lloyd for the purchase of a crystal control rod. _Control rod? For what? Some kind of magical remote control? Ah wouldn't that be wonderful! I could mute Alim any time he starts shrieking about something. _Shrugging to herself, she wadded up the paper and tossed it aside, deeming it irrelevant.

Feeling rather guilty about snooping into the store's supplies, she began prying the lids off of barrels. She was pleased to discover barrels full of sugar, rice, flour, beans, dried meat, and various other food stuffs. There was a chest in the corner that she couldn't get into without picking the lock, but she figured Leliana would be able to open it. _Or… I could always smash it open with my hammer. And probably destroy the contents.. probably better not. _Coming across the last barrels she pulled the lid off and had to step back as a pungent odor emanated from it making her eyes sting. _Kerosene? Why in the world do they have that near the food?! _Fanning the fumes away from her face, she opened the last three barrels and confirmed that they were all filled with lamp oil.

_Well, that's great if I need to set something on fire._ _Or.. make Molotov cocktails._ _Now how am I supposed to get this up the cliff to Bodhan? _As she sat there, scratching her head over her conundrum, the sound of raised voices floated through the open door. _Now what? _She poked her head out the doorway, listening to the sound. _Maybe this place isn't so abandoned after all? _She couldn't make out the words, but somebody was spitting mad from the tone. As she got closer, she recognized the voice. _Alistair? _She squeezed through some adjacent shacks and found herself gazing at the Chantry courtyard. Alistair, Alim, Leliana and Morrigan were gathered next to a rather gruff looking man with mutton chops.

"-can't believe you! We can't just leave them!" Alistair was shouting at Alim with balled fists. "They're defenseless! I grew UP HERE! I KNOW some of these people! And you want me to just walk away?"

Alim's back was too her and she couldn't hear what he said, but whatever snide comment it was nearly sent the templar into a frenzy. Whatever was said sent Alistair away from the group and he began agitatedly pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. Even Leliana frowned profusely at the mage and recited something in Orleasian that was obviously not flattering. Morrigan seemed the only one who approved of his words exclaiming it was a practical decision. _Wishing for that magical remote control really badly right now. _Mallory mused as she walked up to them. Leliana was the first to see her approaching. The bard's irritated features dissolved and were replaced by a genuine smile. Morrigan followed the bard's gaze and turned towards Mallory, her cat-like eyes locking on to her advancing form. With a curt nod of her delicate chin, she directed Alim's attention away from Alistair, to their visitor.

"Making friends as usual I see?" Mallory said, speaking to Alim.

"Oh…it's you." He stated balefully. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with the dwarf, getting supplies?"

"Working on it. Road's blocked. We can't get the cart down the road."

"Of course the road is blocked." Exclaimed the mutton chopped man. "It's all we can do to slow those monsters down to give us a slight advantage."

"I'm sorry? I didn't catch your name?" Mallory asked the gruff man. "And what's this about monsters?"

"Scuse me ma'am." He said extending his hand, which Mallory firmly shook. "Murdock, Mayor of Redcliffe Village. At least, what's left of it. I was just telling the Warden here- he nodded to Alim- that we sure could use a hand. Soon as night falls our village is overrun by walking corpses. They've killed most in the village and those that fall join their ranks. We've lost a lot of good man and women and are fighting a losing battle. Not many of the militia left and the remaining survivors are women, children, and elderly that have never handled a weapon in their lives."

"He was going to leave them, Mallory!" Alistair cried. "Just leave them to their fates! They won't survive another assault! We have to help them!"

"Tis not our concern whether or not these whelps survive. We cannot save every pitiable fool that stumbles across our path." Morrigan said. "Alim's suggestion is most practical. The Arl is what is important here."

Mallory stared slack jawed at the woman. _How can she be so cold?_ _How could both of them? I'm not leaving a group of defenseless people to be slaughtered by zombies. Not if I have anything to say about it! _"Ok. We are NOT leaving these people to die. Alim, we have to help. If you want to discuss practicality, then think us starving to death in the Frostback Mountains. If you don't want to do this just because it's the right thing to do, then do it because we are going to need help clearing the road of that barricade so we can restock. I found a general store just full of non- perishables. We can't risk that getting destroyed. Bodhan says-"

"I don't give a fig what that dwarf says!" Alim interrupted.

Mallory took a deep breath, trying to cool her rising temper. "If you will just listen! It will take two weeks-"

"We are not wasting our time with this!" Alim interrupted, his face flushing red. "I'm in charge, don't-

"WE WILL STARVE if we don't-"

"Maybe if you didn't eat so much-"

What ever control Mallory had, she lost. Balling up her fist, she pulled her arm back as far as it would go and struck him with all her might. Her blow connect solidly on his jaw, sending the mage reeling. Alim staggered backwards, clutching his face with both shock and outrage evident on every feature. His wispy frame shook with rage as he reached for his staff.

"Just try it!" Mallory snarled, hammer at the ready. "I WILL break every bone in your body. Then I will heal you and then do it again."

Alim's eyes flitted from her face to those of the remaining party seeking allies. With a shaky hand, he wiped the blood from his nose. "What are you doing just standing there? Attack her!" He screamed at Alistair, Morrigan, and Leliana.

Alistair shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "Ooooh no. There's no way I'm attacking the Mistress of Big Scary Hammers. You're on your own."

"What?!" Alim spat. "Like I'd expect you to do anything useful. Leliana?"

"Not even if you tortured me. Serves you right." The bard replied sternly.

"Morrigan?"

Mallory turned slightly, still keeping Alim in her line of sight. She sent the witch a fierce look that said don't you dare or you're next. Wisely, Morrigan spread her hands in supplication, taking a step back from the group.

"What would you have of me?" She asked Alim. "I'm afraid I am in no position to oppose her either. I suggest we do as she wishes. She does have a point about our rations. If saving this piddling village will also help us in our travels, then I see no further reason to object."

Alim fumed and Mallory could actually see his struggling with the reality of the situation. He did not like being shown up. Impatient, Mallory began to dole out orders, ignoring the sullen mage.

"Morrigan," she asked. "Would you please seek out Sten and Bodhan and inform them of the most recent developments? Inform them to be prepared for a possible attack at night, but to try and stay undetected. They have made camp a half mile from the west entrance. I trust with your talent, finding them should be easy."

Morrigan gave her a crafty smile, knowing she was referring to the witch's ability to shape shift into an animal and track the absent party members. "Indeed."

"Good. Help protect the camp. And be careful. Sounds like it's going to be an interesting night."

"I-" Morrigan said looking surprised she had even considered the witch's safety. "I can take care of myself. There is no need for concern."

Mallory nodded at the witch and returned her attention to Murdock. Alistair and Leliana joined her, eager to help. Putting away her weapon, she clapped the burly man on the shoulder and began to walk with him. "Tell me what you need."


	9. Hero

Chapter 9

Hero

"Dwyn? I know you're in there." Mallory paused with her ear to the heavy door. "Murdock sent me. Can you open the door, please? I need to talk to you."

She waited a few moments, giving the man time to respond. No answer. She knocked again, a little less patiently this time. Faintly, she heard voices arguing behind the door.

"Boss, I think there's some lady at the door for you."

"I know that you nug lover! Keep quite or she'll hear you."

"Oh.." The voice said stupidly. "Soooo.. you don't want me to unlock it right?"

"What?! No! Just.. Stop.. get away from the door and keep quiet so she'll go away. By my ancestors, what am I paying you for?"

Mallory had heard enough. She was already irritated with having to deal with Alim and that drunken blacksmith that had made her promise to bring back his daughter from a corpse infested castle. Thankfully, she had gotten him to cooperate and he was working on stronger armor for the militia. Last on Murdock's list was to get a local dwarf, Dwyn, to help fight with the militia. Dwyn had a reputation of being a particularly strong warrior and Murdock was hoping she could convince him to bolster their ranks. Problem was, he had locked himself in his house and if that conversation was any indication of his nature, she was willing to bet he wasn't the good samaratin type.

"This is a waste of time." Alim grumbled. Mallory rolled her eyes and tried to summon her patience as she attempted- once again- to explain to him why fighting the corpses outside WITH an armed group of men was better than storming the castle by themselves full of said corpses.

"Alim, if we can get the corpses to come to us and bottleneck them along the paths, we can kill them even though they out number us. We will light the barricades on fire with the oil I found and reduce their numbers," She explained. _Hopefully._ _Or we will have a bunch of flaming zombies attacking us. Won't that be fun! "_When we enter the castle tomorrow, we will have a lot less enemies to face and can get the Arl and any survivors out safely."

"Just because SOME of us can't hold their own in battle with non-mages."Alim sneered. The Warden snorted in derision, looking away from her. He had stuffed a piece of torn robe from his sleeve into his nose to stop the bleeding, but it was purple and swollen even after he applied some poultice, indicating it was probably broken. _Keep it up, _she thought to Alim, _I'll make good on my offer to break more bones. _

"Dwyn! I'm giving you one last chance to open the door." Mallory shouted. No answer. _Ok. I tired to be nice. _

"Leliana? Any chance you could pick this lock?" Mallory asked the bard.

Brushing past Alim, the bard knelt in front of the padlock examining it thoroughly. Eventually she sighed and brushed her hands off on her armor shaking her head. "Not likely. Sorry. It's beyond my skill."

"Ok." Mallory said retrieving her hammer. "Looks like we get to do this the hard way. Stand back!"

Mallory adjusted her grip on the handle and envisioned Alim's face replacing the lock. With a primal roar, she brought the maul down on the padlock, shattering the iron and splintering wood. She could hear cursing from inside as the bolt fell free of the door and clattered on the ground.

"Was that necessary?" Alim drawled, removing his hands from his sensitive ears.

"Probably not. But it was fun. What would you have done? Set the house on fire?"

"Now THAT would have been fun."

"We are trying to convince them to join us in the fight not kill them Alim!"

Alim shrugged nonchalantly. "Are we going to stand here arguing or are we going in?"

"There is something wrong with you, you sick little man." Mallory muttered shaking her head in disdain as she shouldered the door open. Two large thugs flanked their employer, each staring her down menacingly. Taking the lead, Mallory smiled at the auburn dwarf. Dwyn glowered at them as they entered the common room.

"Sorry about that." She said gesturing to the door. "Door must have been stuck. I know you would have answered if you could. After all, I asked nicely and said please."

"Tch," Dwyn grumbled. "Apology accepted. Name's Dwyn. Now get out."

"Actually, Murdock sent me. He needs your help defending the Chantry from the walking dead. He told me you are an impressive warrior. We could certainly use your skills." _Ok. Lay on a little flattery and this should be a piece of cake._

"Really?" Dywn said pulling at his braided mustache as he mulled something over. "How much is it worth to ya?"

"Huh?" Mallory stated, confused. "You mean you want us to PAY you?"

"Of course! This ain't a charity, girly. Going to cost me gold to replace that door. And these guys." He gestured to his bodyguards, one who was picking his nose. "You think they work for free?"

_They should. I hope they are more skilled at fighting than thinking, else he probably over paid. _"How much?" Mallory asked warily.

"Hundred silver ought to do nicely."

"A hundred silver?! You have got to be joking?" Mallory wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face. He was raking her across the coals and he knew it. That was a large sum and could be better put to use buying supplies.

"Hey, sweetcheeks. You want to hire me then that's what it costs."

_Sweetcheeks? _Mallory flushed red in embarrassment and anger. She felt the heat rising as her temper flared. "Either die in here or fight out there." She hissed menacingly at the dwarf. "I'll let you guess which option has a better chance of you surviving."

Mallory bared her teeth at him in a snarl hoping she looked as ticked off as she felt. She was sure the dwarf would cave given the fact they out numbered him and she was twice his size, so she was a bit surprised when he began to laugh.

"You? What are you gonna do lass? Sit on me? I've had enough of you strutting around like you own the place. C'mon, boys. This ends now."

With one fluid movement, the thugs and their leader drew their weapons and were on them. Mallory was saved from beheading by the small confines of the room. Unable to swing the sword with his full might, the nearest thug's blade bounced harmlessly off her armor as she frantically groped for her maul. She yelped in pain as the force of the blow bruised her clavicle. She elbowed the man in the stomach driving it into his gut with all her might. Grunting, he fell to one knee as the wind was knocked out of him. Dwyn was engaging Alistair and the nose picker had backed Alim into a corner. Alim had cast some sort of arcane shield around himself causing most of the blows to deflect, but by the strain on his face he wouldn't be able to keep it up long. Leliana was trying to aim into the fray, but Alistair was directly in her line of sight. She couldn't fire without the risk of shooting an ally. Mallory cast a quick glance around the room as the thug on the floor gasped for air, desperate to salvage this catastrophe. She backed into the still open door and had an epiphany.

"Alistair! Leliana! Outside now!"

"But-?" Alistair began.

"Now!" She screamed.

Alistair shield bashed Dwyn and as the dwarf staggered back, fled out the door. Mallory slammed the inward swinging door behind her with her foot and braced her back against it.

"Alim! Let loose the biggest fireball you can!" She screamed, kicking the thug in the face with her bad leg. The jarring contact of the kick nearly sent her to the floor in agony as Dywn recovered and faced her with his sword at the ready. He chuckled evilly as he drew his arm back. _Why isn't he casting!? Bastard! He's going to let them kill me! _"Alim, if I die the door is blocked and the others can't get to you. How long can you hold that shield till they get through? Then it's three well armed men on one. Not even you can survive those odds. Cast the spell now if you want to live!"

Her hammer in her hands, Mallory felt nothing but dread as Dywn's sword moved to intercept her clumsy parry. Then the room exploded in flames. Everything was consumed by the magical blaze as the walls, tapestries, and men inside combusted. The heat made the air waiver and distort, causing Dywn to miss her completely. The intense flames burned so brightly she swore she could faintly feel the heat. Smoke filled the air, blurring figures and obscuring her from their attacks. Unfazed by the magic, Mallory hesitated only for a moment as Dywn his men writhed in the inferno and then she ended their lives one by one. When they all lay dead, she flung the door open and grabbing Alim by the robe dragged him out of the hut. They were both coughing from the smoke that streamed from the door as the magical flames died out. Leliana ran over and patted her on the back as she continued to hack and gasp for air.

"Well, good thing we didn't go with my idea and set the house on fire," Alim said sarcastically. "Else we could have killed them."

"Shut up." Mallory sullenly replied once she stopped coughing.

* * *

"It's melted shut!" Leliana exclaimed, crouching before the metal chest in Dwyn's house. They had already scavenged what little they could from Dwyn and his men after the smoke had cleared. Which wasn't much. Most of the equipment had been burned or warped by the heat to the point they were unusable. Curiously enough, a silver key they found on Dwyn's body was still intact. Mallory had thought the key belonged to the padlock outside, but when Leliana pointed out the size difference she began to have her doubts. After routing through the remains, a silver chest was discovered in the bedroom with a lock to match the silver key. Problem was, as Leliana explained, during the fire the lock had melted shut, thwarting any attempts to unlock it. Mallory saw Alim's eyes wander inappropriately over Leliana's figure as the woman examined the lump of slag that was now the lock.

Clearing her throat she addressed the bard. "Thanks for trying, Leliana. Maybe I can get it open." She waited for the bard to step back before she equipped her maul and brought it down on the lid. It took several attempts, but finally the hinges gave way and the lid fell off revealing a sword.

"All that noise for a sword?" Alim said in irritation. "Useless."

"Only to you." Alistair replied as he bent to retrieve it. He grabbed the hilt with one hand, and then quickly had to switch to two hands when he struggled with its weight. Mallory wasn't sure how the sword had fit into the chest, for it was colossal. Nearly Alistair's height, he had to brace it with both hands and still could barely lift the tip off the floor.

"Whoa hoo hoo!" Alistair cried. "Look who's got a new blade o' death! What do you think Mallory?" He hefted the blade onto his shoulder, causing Alim to have to duck or be struck by the tip. "I dunno? Does it make me too manly? I mean, I was already manly as it was, but think this is too much?"

"I doubt there is a weapon in this world that could make you appear manly." Alim taunted. Mallory reached over and flicked him in the ear. He yelped more in surprise than pain and clutched his ear.

"Don't touch me!" He spat indignantly.

"Would it kill you to be nice? Even for a second?"

"Yes! Now get your filthy hands away from me."

Mallory struggled with her conscious for a moment: torn between being a mature adult and dropping the subject or continuing to torment him. With a hint of regret, she decided to drop it rather than further his hatred. Instead she focused on Alistair, deciding to tease him about his new found toy.

"So," She said. "Blade O' Death? Is that the official title?"

"Ehhh.. No. Just my first one. Let me get warmed up and I'll come up with something better. Like Mr. Choppy? Or Death Dealer! Or.."

Alistair prattled on as she looked closer at the sword. It was unusual, not only in size but also in form. Weathered rawhide was braided down the handle, old sweat and blood staining the grip. The hilt had two holes near the tang that were bigger than the circumference of her thumb. The blade was beautifully crafted, with a serrated edge on the top-most side, perfect for disarming and breaking enemy swords. It seemed familiar somehow, though she couldn't understand why until Alistair rattled off another potential name.

"Er.. Soul Taker.. or Wound Maker .. oohh.. how about-"

_Soul… Soul? _"Asala!" Mallory exclaimed in excitement, holding her hand out to Alistair. "Let me see it!"

Shrugging, the templar handed it over to Mallory's awaiting hands. She mumbled to herself as she turned the weapon over in the light. "Serrated edge, rawhide grip, holes near the hilt. It HAS to be it! Alistair! You rock!"

"I…rock?" Alistair asked slightly confused. "Isssss… that a good thing?"

"Yes!" Mallory exclaimed. "A very good thing! This is Sten's sword! Asala! I can't believe we found it!"

"It's Sten's sword?" Leliana asked. "You are certain?"

"Yes! He'll be ecstatic. Well…. At least as ecstatic as he can be." She replied, sheathing the blade across from her hammer. She felt the extra weight on her knee immediately and it threatened to buckle, but there was no way she was going to leave the sword behind. _This is perfect! There's no way he can refuse me now! He'll have to teach me! _Grinning like an idiot, she began to wander back to Murdock, the happiness over finding Sten's sword completely overshadowing the fact that they would be down three men for the night's defenses.

* * *

"There's more of them in the courtyard! Come quickly!"

The guard that delivered the hasty message was already booking it back down the hill. _Son of a -. How many of these things are there!? _Mallory mentally groaned as the party made their way down the hill. Her idea with the lamp oil and fire had worked out splendidly and many of the dead fell to pieces in the flames before they could do much harm. She was glad she hadn't messed that up as bad as she did the Dwyn situation. When she witnessed the droves on undead pouring from the castle ramparts like pus from a festering wound, she thought they were all going to die. Now, her spirit was bolstered by the easy defeat of her foes. At least until the guard had informed her more were on their way towards Murdock's group in the Chantry courtyard.

Slowed down by the extra weight of Asala coupled with running down hill with an injured leg, she motioned the others ahead of her as she made her way to the Chantry. When she arrived, the undead were swarming from the lake, surging towards the small group of protectors. Alim dramatically waived his staff in the air, summoning a great storm cloud over the undead. Lightening crashed into the corpses sending some of them flying apart as more and more replaced the fallen.

They fought until false dawn approached, their enemies lack of intelligence and tactics balancing out their sheer numbers. The armor Owen had fashioned saved many lives and none were lost to the ghouls. As the first ray of sun peeked through the valley, the last undead fell under Mallory's maul and the battle was won. Mallory looked up from her kill as the guards cheered and smiled. She was splattered with congealed blood and more worn out and sore than she could ever recall being, but she also felt ALIVE. It was like riding Rocko one last time, his hooves thundering down the field. She gazed at the men hugging their peers and rejoicing and knew that fighting for them had been the right decision, no matter the personal cost.

Bann Teagan held a small ceremony on the Chantry. It was a somber celebration without any pomp, exulting those that had passed while reveling in the lives that were saved. The Bann personally awarded her an enchanted helmet of red steel so aptly deemed the Helmet of the Red. Alim silently seethed as he presented the helm to her, grinding his teeth in agitation. She donned it with pride, grateful to have at least one decent piece of armor. They were exhausted, but there was no time to sleep. The Bann urged them to meet him at the top of the hill near the old windmill for a way into Redcliff Castle before any more of the undead could retake the castle. Mallory looked over the party. Though they had made it through the night unscathed, the fatigue was evident on everyone's features. She knew that sleep deprivation effected decision making abilities and reaction time, but they could not afford another assault on the Chantry, so plunging ahead and dealing with the threat now was the only option. For the first time in many years, Mallory said a silent prayer to anyone listening as they ascended the hill to meet Teagan.

* * *

"Oh Teagan!" Lady Isolde screeched causing Mallory to inwardly flinch. She found everything about the woman off putting: from her shrewish voice to her simpering demeanor. If that's how most Orlesians acted, Mallory was pleased she ended up in Ferelden instead of Orlais. Something was off about her too. She got the impression the woman was hiding something. The Arlessa seemed too desperate, giving only short clipped answers and flushing when asked questions. Mallory also suspected that she and Teagan had a sordid history by the way she was fawning over him, perhaps even a secret affair. Given Mallory's own history with cheating spouses, it made the Arlessa's personality all the more irksome. She didn't want to jump to conclusions, but when the Bann stupidly agreed to follow her into the castle - and into what was very obviously a trap-it further cemented her suspicions.

"Are you insane?!" Mallory asked the Bann. "It's a trap! Even I can see that! You can't be serious?!"

"What choice do I have?"

"We fought all night to keep you safe. Don't throw your life away now!" Alistair shouted.

"Don't be foolish." Alim sneered. "If the Arl is dead, he's the closest thing we've got to royalty. Do not permit him to leave."

Fearing they would stop him, the Bann took a step away from the group. Alistair grabbed the Bann by his arm, pleading with him. "You don't have to do this! Please!"

Bann Teagan suddenly appeared very tired. With one long sigh, he aged ten years as he clasped Alistair on shoulder. "Yes, I do Alistair. You know that. My brother is in there. My nephew. Would you do any different in my place?"

"Alistair." Mallory said softly. "Let him go."

Alistair chewed his bottom lip in worry and let go of the Bann with a curt nod. After the Bann handed the key to the secret passage to Mallory he took off after Isolde. Mallory watched him go, thinking he was both brave and foolish and wondering if there was a line between the two.

"You force us to stay and fight to save them, nearly getting us killed in the process, and THAT one runs to his death and yet you do nothing. He is the Arl's brother. If the Arl is dead and he gets himself killed, will you put this child- this Conner- on the throne to thwart Loghain?" Alim stated.

"It was his choice, Alim." Mallory said.

"And it was MY choice to leave them in the first place! You had no problem interfering there!"

Mallory looked at the mage almost saddened by what he had said. _He's never cared for anyone, anything but himself. He doesn't understand because he can't. I doubt he's ever loved anything in his life. _"You choose to leave them because you couldn't be bothered. Because their lives meant nothing to you. He's choosing to take the risk for the exact opposite reason. Because the lives of the people in the castle mean more to him than his own life. I cannot deny him the right to try, even if he may perish. It's different Alim."

"It's different. Of course you would say that. You want to play the hero and still get through this with your honor intact. The thing you don't realize is that THIS is war and the men you are going up against don't play by your rules." Alim laughed.

"What are you talking about?"

"I just wanted to go back to the Circle and resolve some unfinished business, but now you're going to catch Loghain's attention. We were just a minor thorn in his side , but now... with this little stunt, saving all these people and being a hero, they will talk and word will travel to his ears. Now we are a threat, and he will stop at nothing to kill us all."

"He already tried to kill you anyways. What difference does this make? What do know about anything? You've been locked in a tower all your life."

"I may have lived all my life in the Circle, but I know plenty about Loghain." He said smugly. "I read every book tower held on him. That's all we mages can do there, you see. Study and read about life instead of living it. Dwelling behind those walls may have sheltered me from many things, but not human nature. I've seen how loyalty and a soft heart get rewarded. Over time I've learned to get rid of those useless emotions and focus solely on my goal, though apparently it wasn't enough. I've also seen how desperate people will get if they believe you jeopardize their power. Did you know I was next in line to replace the First Enchanter?"

"First Enchanter?" Mallory asked.

"The head of the Circle." Alistair explained. "They act as a liaison between the templars and the mages. It's a very important and very powerful position."

"You?" Mallory asked incredulously. "In charge of the Circle?"

Alim favored her with a grim smile. "Is that so hard to believe? I am one of the most skilled mages in generations to grace the halls of the Circle and I have worked very hard to stay that way."

"But, you're terrible with people." Alistair exclaimed.

"People skills has nothing to do with the ability to lead." Alim snapped. "It's about making decisions. I am out of my element here, but in the tower I am perfectly capable of leading. It's what I was groomed for. First Enchanter Irving knew this and that is why he got rid of me. He wanted to cling to his position as long as he could."

"What do you mean, got rid of you?" Mallory asked.

Alim chuckled mirthlessly. "Made me a Grey Warden. He ordered me to help a fellow mage escape, and when I did as he commanded, he gave me to the Wardens. I suppose I should count myself fortunate. Had Duncan not been there, I have little doubt Irving would have denied ever ordering me to help Jowan. He would have let the templars slaughter me like a dog, all to keep his position. This option just spared him the trouble of a guilty conscious."

He leaned in close to Mallory, smiling wickedly. "You see, men do not like it when someone threatens their power. They feel like they are losing control and will do anything to eliminate that threat. So called honorable men will lie, steal, and kill all the while justifying that it was necessary or for the greater good. I have seen it a hundred times in the Circle, between templar and mage, as well as fellow mages vying for an important position within the Circle. Yes, we saved these people today, but are they truly important? And at what cost? What if your honor has damned us all and the Arl is dead? How will we win over the Bannorn then? If you want to play leader and make these choices then remember: There will come a time when you will have to make a hard decision. You may have to let people die. Or kill someone to further your goal. When that time comes, well, you may find you have more in common with me than you originally believed. Tell me then, how it is different."

He withdrew from Mallory's personal space leaving a cold void in his place. Mallory released the breath she didn't realize she was holding and cleared her throat, turning to address the party. "All right, I know you're tired, but we have to get through this as quickly and safely as possible. Alistair, since you know the castle, I want you up here with me. Leliana, you scout ahead, carefully and quietly. Alim..."

"Don't worry." He stated bringing up the rear of the party. "I'll watch your back."

Mallory shuddered at his tone, incredibly unnerved. Alim's little bit of wisdom about power was nothing but a thinly veiled promise. It was as he said, men don't like it when their power is threatened. He may as well have whispered _I will find a way to kill you soon _in her ear. Trying to shake off the fear she felt creeping up her spine as she led them into the windmill, she muttered, "That's what I'm afraid of."


	10. Jowan

Chapter 10

Jowan

The dank air of the dungeon was thick with the cloying smell of decomposition. Mallory tried to take shallow breaths as the party moved forward through the underbelly of RedCliffe Castle, but she could taste the decay in the air. She strained to hear anything from under the red steel of her new helmet. It was disconcerting to have one of her senses dampened at a time unknown danger could spring forth at any instant. The helm also blocked her peripheral vision, narrowing her line of sight much like a horse wearing blinders. She had to keep fully turning her head from side to side to scan the room for potential threats lurking in the shadows.

"Get away from me!" The voice was male, but shrill with panic. It floated through the open hallway ahead of them. Weapons at the ready the group filed into the corridor to help the screaming man. Three corpses blocked their path, assaulting a cell door with their gnarled limbs. One let out a feral hiss as it shook the bars of the cell door and plunged its arm between them, desperate to rend the flesh of the prisoner trapped within. The man shrieked again as Alistair and Mallory cut them down. Using the momentum generated by the weight of the hammer, Mallory hit the undead in the ribs and sent it tumbling down the hall. Only its arms remained, still dangling through the openwork bars of the cell. The hands grasped at the air for a few seconds before they came to a halt and fell to the ground. The corpses were nothing but brittle bone and dried sinew and the party finished them off quickly without any challenge. The most they could do is clumsily strike at them with boney fingers, which harmlessly bounced off their armor.

After the last one fell, Mallory was surprised to hear laughter from behind her. Confused, she turned to find Alim cackling wickedly in delight. The mage seemed to be in a rather sinister mood, smiling like a cat with fresh prey as he approached the cell.

"Well, well. If it isn't Jowan, the illustrious blood mage." He said. Alim kicked away the fallen limbs grabbing onto the barred door and leered at the prisoner. "I see freedom suites you well." He cackled maliciously.

"Alim?" The prisoner's features were wracked with confusion and disbelief. He was gaunt from starvation and Mallory spied dried blood on the tattered remains of his robe. Lacerations and burns were plainly visible across his body and had been left untreated. Some had festered in the confines of his filthy cell, creating a gruesome visage to behold. His face mirrored her own: the face of a tortured soul. He stepped out of the shadows, his mouth falling agape as he surveyed Alim. "Maker's breath! Alim! It is you! You're here? Out of the Circle? How-!?"

"Because of YOU, you insipid fool! Did you think you could assault the Knight-Commander and Irving with blood magic and not have them accuse me just by sheer association? Irving sent me away!"

"Wait! What?! Don't you dare play the victim! You betrayed me!" The mage prisoner shouted, spittle flying from his cracked lips in his rage. He reached through the gate with both hands trying to seize Alim by the throat. Alim coldly stepped out of reach and just smiled. "You knew all along that they were going to make me tranquil! And then you told Irving about my plans to leave with Lily! You cost me the love of my life! You cost me everything! You sold me out!"

"What did you have to lose Jowan? The false love of a girl who turned her back on you the second you revealed you were a blood mage? You didn't have anything to begin with. You barely passed most of your classes and were lucky they didn't make you tranquil sooner. If it wasn't for my influence, they probably would have. " Alim sneered. "I was the one with promise, set to be the next First Enchanter! I was at the top of my class! I had a future there and because of you I'm stuck here as a Warden with everyone trying to kill me!"

"Good! I hope they kill you! I hope they take everything you ever loved away from you and make you watch! Maybe then you'll get what you deserve. Just..just like I am. Just like I me." The anger fled from Jowan's face leaving him looking worn and empty. He didn't have the strength to be furious. He had lost too much. What good would vengeance do him now? His Lily was gone. He closed his eyes and pressed his head against the bars, a single tear running down his face. "It- it wasn't supposed to be this way. We were supposed to be happy. We just wanted to be free of the Circle. Free to choose or own paths. Free to love. Tell me… Lily.. is.. is she ok?"

"How am I supposed to know? She was being sent to the Aeonar, so probably not. If she's lucky, they'll execute her. If she not, then she'll rot in a cell for the rest of her life. Hmmm, much like you are now. Maybe I was wrong about you two. Perhaps you are CELL mates…ooops.. I mean.. soul mates after all."

The color drained from Jowan's face and he let out an audible sob. Alim rolled his eyes and sharply stated, "Oh for the sake of the Void! You had to have known that would happen. Stop blubbering. You brought this on yourself. I'm the real victim here. You don't see me sniveling like a child."

_Hello kettle, meet pot. I've seen you act like a child plenty of times, Alim._ "Well, this is awkward." Mallory stated. "I take it you two know each other. Maybe I'm wrong, but his reaction seems typical of people that have dealt with you before, Alim. You know, with the screaming in rage and trying to strangle you. Want to start at the beginning or should I just use my imagination to fill in the sordid details?"

"Jowan is the idiot I was telling you about earlier. The blood mage who gave Irving the leverage he needed to get me kicked out of the Circle and conscripted into the Wardens. It's his fault I'm a Grey Warden to begin with."

"What's a blood mage?" Mallory asked.

"Don't you know anything?" Alim said. "Someone who uses blood magic."

"Oh." Mallory said. Then she leaned over to Alistair and whispered, "What's blood magic?"

Alim groaned theatrically as his sensitive ears picked up her inquiry and answered before Alistair could. "Imbecile! It's incredibly powerful magic that is fueled by blood. It allows a mage as pathetic as Jowan here to become as skillful as me, but at a price. It converts life energy to magical energy. It is also forbidden and punishable by death because it involves a covenant with a demon!"

"Demons!" Mallory exclaimed. _No! Not demons. Hybris.. I…I…. _She started shaking uncontrollably, memories of her time in the demon's clutches flashing through her mind. Hybris touching her, hurting her, forcing her to remember things she just wanted to forget forever. "You struck a deal with a demon. Are you mad?"

"No! I'd never deal with demons! Ever! I learned it from books. Books! Just paper and ink. It wasn't always taught by demons, but another form of magic used in Tevinter that was learned just like any other magic. I found the tomes in the library, abandoned and forgotten. They had been there for ages, untouched. I was just curious. I never meant to cause any harm."

"Is he telling the truth?" Mallory asked Alim.

Alim shrugged nonchalantly, picking something out from underneath his fingernail. "Probably. He never did have the stones for anything that bold. Besides, dealing with a demon is unwise. They typically get the better end of the deal and the mage ends up either possessed or dead. Only the most foolish or most desperate even try. He was always a goody two shoes. This is his only act of defiance in all the years I knew him was when it came to his precious Lily. He risked it all for the woman he loved. And now he's a wanted apostate."

He said the woman's name in a mocking tone, prompting Jowan to scream. "How can you say that?! After what happened to Ari-"

"Don't you dare speak that name!" Alim shrieked, lightening crackling over his staff. "I told you what would happen if you ever mentioned her."

"Enough!" Mallory cut them off. She sighed in exasperation, feeling like she was in over her head. "I'm guessing you are responsible for all the walking corpses, then?"

"No. The Veil is torn, but not by me." Jowan replied. "The Arlessa didn't believe me, so she locked me in here and had me tortured. She didn't want to believe that her son could have done it."

"Her son?" Alistair interjected. "Conner is a mage?"

Jowan nodded solemnly. "It's the reason I am here. One of the reasons. The Arlessa's son started showing signs. Fearing he would be taken to the Circle, she hired me to tutor him in private. Then the Arl fell ill and strange disturbances began to happen around the castle. She blamed me for both of them, but I am only responsible for one."

"What else are you responsible for?" Mallory asked, not liking where this conversation was going.

Jowan sighed and passed his hand over his face, part to wipe away tears and part to hide his shame. "The Arl. I poisoned him."

"Why would you do that?"

"I was approached by an agent of Loghain and-"

"Loghain is involved?" Alistair interrupted.

"Yes." Jowan continued. "Or so the agent claimed. Alim is correct. I am an apostate and the templars were closing in. It was only a matter of time before they cornered me and killed me. I don't know how he found me or how he arranged it, but the agent set me up to be Conner's tutor. By the Arlessa's order, I was to teach the boy enough magic to conceal his talent and keep him from the Circle. It was a front for my real goal, to poison the Arl. The agent said Loghain would have the Circle call off the search. He claimed the Arl was a traitor to all of Ferelden and in league with Orlais. The Arl would cause chaos in the Bannorn and incite a civil war to weaken the country while Orlesian forces swarmed our borders. He said I was doing my duty as a Ferelden citizen and that he would ensure I could live as a free man. I-I thought I was doing what I was supposed to. That once I was free, I could find Lily…and…" He broke off for a moment, trying to calm himself. "After I poisoned the Arl he left me here. I-I'm sorry. I was wrong. I know that now. I take full responsibility for my actions. I just want to make things right."

"Right? How in the world do you intend to make this right?! You killed the Arl!"

"No! No, he's not dead! I have no idea what kind of poison the agent gave me, but it was something brewed in Tevinter. It was supposed to kill him, but it didn't work. Instead, he's in a deep sleep."

"How do you know that?" Alistair asked suspiciously.

"When I was held prisoner, I overheard the guards talking about the Arl's condition. He is said to sleep like the dead, but still live."

"So, can you magic him out of it? Or you have a cure?"Mallory dared to hope.

"No. It was designed to be incurable by magic. The Arlessa has used every resource she has to try and save him, but nothing works. Last I heard, she even sent the knights out to look for Andraste's ashes."

Alim made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. "Foolish desperation. The Urn of Ashes in naught more than a myth."

_The ashes of Andraste? Isn't that supposed to be some kind of miracle cure? I think I remember that knight at the Chantry mentioning something about it. _Mallory thought. "Ok, that still doesn't explain the walking dead."

"I think I know what occurred." Jowan continued. "I taught Conner some basic magic, nothing fancy. He's no where near as proficient as he needs to be to resist a demon. I think he may have entered the Fade in his sleep and made a deal to keep the Arl alive. It makes sense. The corpses, the fact the Arl still lives, and the strange occurrences around the castle. A demon would be able to keep death at bay, though maybe not cure the Arl."

"Yeahhhhh. I can see where healing things may not be a demon's strong point." Alistair quipped.

"A-are you saying.. a demon may have possessed Conner?" Mallory was quiet as the color drained from her face. She wasn't ready to face another demon, not in this lifetime. She had barely escaped with her sanity the last time. Mallory turned away from the others, shuddering and braced herself against the cold stone wall as the memory resurfaced.

_He had carved of a section of her skin off her stomach the size of a basketball and ate it slowly. She had no eyelids to close, for he had cut them off earlier. Instead, she was forced to watch as he consumed her, piece by piece like Hannibal Lector. She was waiting for him to comment on fava beans and chianti, but realized he wouldn't understand the reference. No chianti graced his glass, instead her bright red blood dribbled down his chin as he tipped his goblet to his lipless mouth and drank of her. The flowing blood from her eyes mixed with her genuine tears that streamed down her face. As he came back for a second helping, all she could do is sob. _

She fought a wave of nausea as the mental image of her blood flowing between his teeth flashed throughout her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut against the mental assault.

"Mallory? You ok?" She felt Alistair's hand pat her on the back. Angry, she swatted him away, not wanting his pity.

"Let me out." Jowan pleaded. "I never meant for Conner to get hurt. I'll fix this, somehow. If you let me out, I swear I'll find a way to help."

"No!" Mallory whirled on Jowan, grabbing him by the remains of his robe and smashing his face into the bars. "You meant to kill his father, what did you think would happen? That he would be ok with that? You caused this! All this suffering. All this death. Do you KNOW what demons do to their victims?! You can rot in here for all eternity for all I care." Disgusted, she released him and stormed out of the hall. "Let's get out of here!"

Alistair nodded and followed with Leliana close behind. Alim began to walk away, and then, as he passed the cell of his former colleague, he paused and doubled back. He leaned heavily on his staff and smiled at Jowan.

"You know," he stated leering at Jowan. "I don't normally agree with her. Well, actually, I've never agreed with anything she's had to say.. until now. Her decision to leave you in here is fitting. Because of you, I am banished from the Circle. I had plans, Jowan. I would have changed things. But you, you had to go foul everything up. I hope you die here.. alone and miserable.. just like your precious Lily!"

"You son of a –" Jowan screamed.

With that, Alim left Jowan behind, marginally satisfied as his associate continued to curse his existence. Alim was still laughing when he rejoined the party a few moments later.

* * *

"Watch what your doing, you oaf!" Alim shrieked, holding up the hem of his robe in abhorrence. The indolent templar had swung too hard cutting down the revenant, spraying his new robe with demonic ichor.

"Sorry, just saving your life!" Alistair replied snidely.

"Arghhhh. This is never going to come out!" Alim continued. "I am going to smell like death all day long."

"I don't see how that's any different from usual." Alistair muttered.

"What was that?" Alim's sharp hearing picked up the insult, even with the templar mumbling.

"I said, I don't see how that's any different than usual." Alistair snapped back. Without waiting for a response, the templar turned his back on the mage and flung the switch that opened the castle portcullis. Ser Perth and his men flooded the courtyard as the gates opened and Alim watched through narrowed eyes. Ser Perth gave him a passing glance, then disregarded him completely. Instead, the knight approached Mallory and they began a heavy conversation about breaching the castle interior.

Alim silently fumed as he tallied up the slights. The templar was becoming mouthy and forgetting his place. He was being overlooked and dismissed. This was HER fault. He glared seething at the back of Mallory's head, wishing he could set it on fire. His nose still hurt from when she had socked him and the constant throbbing was reminder of his hatred. Alim watched as she concluded her meeting with Ser Perth and gestured for him to join them as they ascended the stairs to the castle. Alim found himself wishing she would trip on one of those steps and break her neck. She had no idea what she had unleashed by saving those townsfolk. She had doomed them all and she was going to take him down with her.

Alim cursed to himself. He could have still made it back to the Circle and convinced them to let him back in. After all, with all of the Wardens dead, he would be a wandering apostate and it was Knight-Commander Greagoir's duty to ensure he was confined to the tower even if Irving protested. He would have had to endure many questions and be watched continually for signs of corruption. Perhaps even undergo another Harrowing. His record was pristine though, and given time, he would have earned the trust of his superiors once again. He would have lain low the next few years, biding his time and learning more magic. His power would have grown and then as Irving aged, he would have taken over as First Enchanter. His plans would have commenced as they were supposed to. Then, he would make them pay for what they did. All of them.

Now, she had interfered. Just like Jowan, she had thrown a proverbial wrench in his design, making it harder to accomplish his goal. Instead of quietly returning to the Circle as he had hoped, Loghain would send everyone he could to kill them. While Alim had little concern about his safety – confident he could kill anyone that crossed his path- the renown was something he hoped to avoid. It would be difficult enough to convince Irving he was no longer a threat to his position. Even more so now that the acting regent wanted him dead and had put a price on his head. Where he might have slipped back into life at the Circle unnoticed, now he would be hunted. Alim could just picture that crafty old fart Irving persuading Greagoir that welcoming Alim back to the Circle would incur Loghain's wrath. If pushed the right way, the Knight-Commander could be convinced Alim was too dangerous to return and too dangerous to be free. The only alternative would be death- his death- and that was not a prospect that thrilled him.

"Alim?" Mallory shouted from the top of the stairs. "Are you coming?"

He ground his teeth in frustration as he began to walk forward. He considered himself a patient man. Learning the arcane arts took years of both patience and skill. He had waited so long for vengeance and now it would appear he would have to wait a little longer. He took his time walking up the steps, enjoying Mallory's irritation. She was just another obstacle to get around in the quest to avenge Arielle. He would find her weakness and dispose of her. All he had to do was wait. After all, what was time to a patient man?

* * *

"Conner. Please!" Isolde begged her possessed son. "They mean you no harm. Don't hurt them."

"Hurt them! Hurt them!" chanted Teagan, dancing around like a buffoon. He clapped his hands merrily to a tune only he could hear.

"Shut up, Uncle!" the boy who had once been Conner cried. "This woman cost me my fun! I want to see her. Come forth!"

Trying to hide the fact she was shaking, Mallory stepped forward. She felt like she might lose control of her bowls at any moment as she stared into his opaque eyes. Thick black veins crawled thru his pale skin, marking the boy with corruption. His voice reminded her of Hybris, with many overlapping pitches speaking just a second off of each other. He tilted his head as she came near, the unnatural sheen of his eyes catching the torch light. He smiled and laughed, leaving Mallory uncertain which one was more unnerving.

"Oh. I see." The possessed child stated. "My, my. What a surprise. I misspoke. The fun I have had so far is trivial to what the future holds for us. Such possibilities."

"Leave the boy, demon!" Mallory's voice cracked as she addressed the demon. "Go back where you came from. You are not welcome here!"

"Am I not?" Laughter like broken glass. "I think it is you who is the intruder. You do not belong here. I was invited here. A deal was made. A fair deal."

"There's no such thing as a fair deal with a demon! You took advantage of a scared child! Begone!"

"Or what?" Demonic Conner took a step forward. "Destroy me and the boy dies with me."

Suddenly Conner's features shifted. Before her eyes he reverted to an innocent child, terrified beyond his imagination. "Mother!" he called to Isolde, reaching out to her in confusion. "I don't want to die. Please!"

"Conner!" Lady Isolde screamed, running to embrace him.

Just as suddenly, Conner's features shifted again, becoming the cold calculating demon. "Enough! You are beginning to bore me! Let's play a game instead!"

With a snap of his fingers, the demon ordered a squad of possessed guards and Teagan to attack. Mallory lost sight of the child as the crazed men overtook the party. The Bann was the first one to reach her and she retained enough sense to knock him unconscious. She side stepped his grapple attempt and conked him in the back of the head with her hammer. He hit the ground with a groan, stunned as Mallory stood over his body, doing her best to protect him from further harm while deflecting the blows of the guards. Thankfully, with the help of Ser Perth and his men, they were able to dispatch them quickly without further harm to the Bann or Arlessa.

Mallory knelt over the Bann and gently shook him awake. With a moan, he came to and put his hand on his head.

"What in the name of the Maker happened?" he asked as she helped him to his feet.

"Just your standard variety possession." Mallory jested as she helped him to his feet. She still hadn't quit shaking and nearly lost her grip on him as she hauled him up. _I really hope this is over soon.. so I can go throw up._

"Conner? Is he-?"

"He took off." Alistair supplied.

"Maker, what are we going to do?" The Bann asked with a dismal shake of his head.

"He's an abomination. We must kill him. It's the only way." Alim bluntly stated.

"Alim!" Mallory was aghast as Isolde burst into tears. Inconsolable, she ran to Teagan for comfort. Mallory was surprised when the Bann coldly pushed her away, denying her his embrace.

"This is your fault, Isolde! How could you hide this from .. from his father!"

_I wonder if the Arl even really is his father. Teagan and Conner both have red hair. A coincidence? Doubtful. If Isolde and Teagan have been together than what's the chances he is Conner's father? Especially, if this has been going on for a long time. No wonder he is so upset. _

"There must be some other way." Mallory sighed. Killing a child was not something she wanted to be a part of.

Alim shrugged. "Well, if we had copious amounts of lyrium lying around and an entire group of mages casting, we could send someone into the Fade to confront the demon."

Mallory cringed at the thought of reentering the Fade. "Can anyone go?"

"No. It would have to be a mage."

"Why do we need multiple mages? You said that you are one of the most powerful mages there is. Can't you enter the Fade?"

Alim shook his head no. "The one casting the spell cannot enter the Fade. The caster must act as an anchor to the waking world so that the mage inside does not get separated from their body. I suppose we could always go to the Circle and ask for help, but who knows what will transpire in the time it takes to travel there and back? The trip alone will take about a two weeks there and back. Or if the Circle will even render any aid at all? The templars aren't known for their mercy." He stared deliberately at Alistair and made a throat cutting motion. "They may come in force to put the boy down themselves."

Isolde sobbed louder into her hands as Mallory shot Alim an annoyed look. _Does he have no tact whatsoever? _

"You're not helping." She said flatly.

Again Alim shrugged nonchalantly. "There is another option… though it will be considered unsavory by many." The mage paused dramatically and fussed with his robes.

"Well?" Mallory drawled out the last letter to express her impatience.

Alim looked up from his robes and smiled. "There's always Jowan."

* * *

"You can't be serious! Mallory! It's blood magic!" Alistair screamed.

"It's just a tool, Alistair. Like a sword. The person wielding it determines if it is used for good or evil."

"But he poisoned the Arl! He can't be trusted!"

"We have no choice, Alistair. Not if we want Conner to live. I don't want to take the chance of running all the way to the Circle and have them not be able to help. Or to kill him. Who knows how much damage it's doing to leave him in this state? If you were possessed, would you want us to just leave you like that without exploring every viable option?"

Mallory kept replaying the conversation in her head as she descended the stairs to the dungeon. She had never seen Alistair so angry. She had left the others in the main room, wanting to talk to Jowan alone. As she made her way through the castle, she experienced a myriad different emotions ranging from guilt to anger. _How can he be so mad at me? I mean, I understand the stigma around blood magic, but doesn't he trust me? And why does his opinion matter anyways? He always says he doesn't want to lead and then gripes and complains about the decisions anyone else makes. _Her final observation had persuaded the templar to at least let her try, but he was visibly unhappy with her choice. _Even Leliana is violently opposed to this. Surely they must understand we don't have many options. I feel trapped. One thing is for certain, I really don't want to leave a possessed child for two weeks while we cross the countryside on nothing but a ray of hope. I never thought I'd think this, but I miss cell phones. Think how much easier it would be if I could just call up the Circle and ask for their local exorcist. Stupid magic. All these mages and they can't even teleport. And where are all the horses? I haven't seen one since I arrived here. My kingdom for a horse! _She continued this train of thought until she reached Jowan's cell.

The mage was curled in a corner with his head on his knees. It appeared that he was resigned to his fate, for he didn't even acknowledge her as she approached.

"Hey!" She said, banging on the cell door.

Jowan slowly looked up and rose to his feet then shuffled to the door and draped his arms though the bars.

"You were right about the demon. Conner is possessed."

Jowan sighed and closed his eyes in despair and rested his head against the bars. He truly seemed remorseful and it took a moment before her spoke, his voice breaking. "I had hoped I was wrong. Did you…?"

"No, he lives still, but he is violent and unpredictable. There are moments he seems lucid but the demon takes over swiftly. We are running out of time."

"I can help! There's a ritual I can perform.. with blood magic. I know it sounds bad, but I can send someone into the Fade. If they defeat the demon there, Conner will be free. It's just…." His voice trailed off as he was lost in thought.

"Alim's the only one we can send." She said finishing his sentence.

Jowan smiled. "You don't trust him. You are wise." He hesitated a moment before continuing. "There's more. The magic I wield is powerful… but at a price." Jowan said wearily. "Blood magic is fueled by blood; by life. It would take a considerable amount of blood to open a portal to the Fade. All of it in fact. Someone would have to die."

Mallory sighed. _So either way someone has to die. I don't like it, but what choice do we have? "_We will cross thatbridge when we come to it. For right now, you and I are going to have a little conversation while we walk."

"Is that why you came alone?"

Mallory nodded. "You were going to say something and he cut you off. A name?"

"Arielle." Sadness passed over Jowan's face as he uttered the name with reverence. "He wasn't always like how is he now."

"Cruel and selfish?" Mallory supplied.

Jowan smirked. "And then some. It's a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"You can tell me as we walk." Mallory replied opening the cell door with the key the Bann gave her. She stepped aside and gestured for him to walk in front of her. When he complied, she manacled his hands and issued a warning. "Don't try anything funny. If you run, you die. If you try to cast any spells, you die. Just stay in my line of sight and I won't bludgeon you to death."

Jowan chuckled. "Thanks for the warning."

"Everybody gets one." Mallory said as she nudged him forward. "Let's move."

"Where to begin….. He was kind once. Good natured and actually kind of funny. He was the first person I met when I came to the tower. One of the templars was rougher than needed in escorting me. I was young and terrified and my mother summoned the templars to drag me away from my family and home, so not very cooperative. This templar, Riggs, he shoved me on the floor after refused to stop kicking him in the shin. Alim had just arrived before me and helped me up. Then he set the man's foot on fire." Jowan chuckled. "He got in so much trouble for that, but he became my best friend that day."

"He didn't seem like your best friend."

Jowan's voice lost all humor. "THAT man is not my friend. Nor is he friend to anyone other than himself. He changed radically over the years. I didn't believe it. I didn't want to, not until he stabbed me in the back."

"Because of Arielle?"

Jowan shook his head in sorrow as they went up the flight of stairs to the upper level of the castle. "Because of what happened to Arielle. Life for us in the Tower is very different than the lives of free people. We are constantly watched and allowed very few freedoms or pleasures. The Tower is no place to raise a family or woo a partner. Most romances are quick trysts in dark corners when the templars aren't looking. Growing up in the Tower, it was the same for us as young lads. Then, he met Arielle. She was a few years older than him and had transferred from the Ansburg Circle to study advanced creation magics with Enchanter Torrin. She was a prodigal: years ahead of her schooling. The Senior Enchanters were so impressed, they let her tutor other fledging mages that were not doing well in the subject, including Alim. He never stood a chance. Arielle was vibrant and passionate. She brought life to the dullness of the Circle, healing cuts and bruises with her magic and lifting our spirits. She was always patient, always kind, and couldn't stand to see others suffer. I don't know when it happened, but they fell for each other."

Jowan paused for a moment and coughed. Noticing his cracked lips and dry cough, Mallory offered him a drink of water from her waterskin.

"Thanks. You remind me of her. Here you are, sharing your water with a blood mage and wanted apostate that poisoned the Arl." He replied, handing it back to her.

"Yeah. It's probably NOT a good idea to remind me about that."

He gave her a wary smile before continuing his tale. "I had never seen two people more in love. A year went by and Arielle was excelling in her school of magic, so much so that Senior Enchanter Irving convinced the acting First Enchanter to have her take her Harrowing early."

"Harrowing?" She asked as they entered the doorway to the barracks.

"Oh. Sorry. I guess not being a mage you wouldn't know much about that. It's sort of a test all mages have to pass to advance. Or, well, to live for that matter. I never got a chance to take mine, but I've heard tales. They say they put you in the Fade and have demons tempt you. They try to trick you by appealing to your desires, your pride, even your sympathy. If you fail and become possessed, the templars are present to slaughter you before you can harm anyone."

"Nice. So, no pressure then?"

"None what so ever."

"Did Arielle become an abomination?"

"I-I don't know what transpired, but Arielle didn't make it out of the Harrowing. Some say she became an abomination and the templars struck her down. Others she refused to take it and was made tranquil and sent back to Ansburg. I don't know what happened, but we never saw her again. No one other than those that were present knew and no one told us anything. A mage's Harrowing is secret and even after it is completed, no one may speak of it, not even the mage that undertook the trial. All I know is from that moment on, Alim changed. He only cried one night and in the morning he acted as if nothing had happened. He delved into his studies with ferocity. He quit speaking to others and focused solely on becoming a master of the arcane arts. Time passed and he became more withdrawn. People became an irritant to him: an interruption to his studies that he wouldn't tolerate."

"So he drowned his sorrows in his lessons?"

"Maybe. Or maybe something else."

"What do you mean?"

"After everything happened, Alim grew cold. He hardly showed any emotion at all with a few exceptions. When both First Enchanter Irving and Knight-Commander Greagoir were promoted shortly after her demise, he flew into a rage. He destroyed his room and tore up his grimoires screaming about injustice. After that episode, he was strangely calm and became almost obsessive about gaining more knowledge. He would go without sleep for days or stop eating; all to perfect some spell and achieve more power. Looking back on it now…sometimes… sometimes he scared me."

"You think he blamed them for her death? I can understand maybe being angry at Irving. After all, he was the one that recommended she take the Harrowing early. But what about Greagoir?"

"Greagoir's hand in her in fate would have been far worse than Irving's. He was acting Knight-Captain at the time and required to be present at every Harrowing. If she had turned, it would have been Greagoir that drove his sword through her heart."


	11. Desire

**Thank you all for the reviews! I love them! Zev is still a few chapters away, so keep those panties on. (I know, it's hard.)Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 11

Desire

"I'll do it." Isolde said standing tall. "If it will save my son, I will give my life."

Alim barely refrained from making a rude noise. It was difficult, but he managed. He had orchestrated everything perfectly and didn't want to ruin his scheme because he laughed at the fools surrounding him. Everything was going according to plan. He had dashed any hope of the Circle's help while reinforcing that only he could enter the Fade. He had also successfully driven a wedge between Mallory and her entourage, leaving her vulnerable. Now the rest of the pieces just had to fall in place. _Of course his mother is willing to be a sacrifice. Queue outraged Alistair any second now._

"No. Absolutely not. Mallory, you cannot allow this!" Alistair made a slashing motion with his hands and stormed over to Mallory. Alim watched the exchange with amusement.

"Allow? Alistair, she's a grown woman capable of making her own decisions." Mallory countered. Alim though he detected a hint of pride in her voice. "I don't like this any more than you do, but it is HER choice, not yours or mine. She's his mother and willing to die for him."

"This is wrong!" He ran his hand through his hair, distress evident in every feature.

"Is it? I disagree. There is no greater honor than laying down your life for someone you love." Mallory retorted. Her face softened a bit as she nodded respectfully towards Isolde as she spoke in voice tinged with sadness. "Any mother- any good mother- would be willing to do the same."

Jowan, who was being restrained by Ser Perth, was staring daggers at Alim the entire time. Taking pleasure in his seething rage, Alim wiggled his fingers at him in a mock wave. His smile widened as Jowan lurched towards him earning himself a swift cuff upside the head from Ser Perth. Alim hid his snicker with a well placed cough as Mallory glanced their way.

Still fuming, Jowan decided to ignore Alim and signaled his readiness to begin the ritual. Ser Perth removed the manacles binding his wrists and stepped back from the blood mage keeping his hand on his weapon.

"I need a knife." He stated as he knelt and tossed aside the decorate rug that was covering the thick wooden floorboards. Mallory nodded to Leliana, who reached into her boot and produced a small concealed throwing knife no bigger than his index finger. She tossed the knife with expert precision and it landed with a thunk just shy of his left knee. Jowan jumped in shock then retrieved the knife.

"In case you are curious," Leliana cautioned. "There are plenty more where that came… and I missed on purpose that time."

"Noted." Jowan replied as he cut his wrist. His blood welled up and spilt on the castle flooring, staining the wood grain. Alim watched intently as he dipped his finger in his blood and began drawing intricate designs on the floor. When he was finished he bound his wrist with a piece of his tattered robe and double checked his runes. Two circles had been drawn each with a triangle in the center with its points touching the edge of the circle. In the spaces between the shapes, Jowan had drawn Tevinter runes as wells as some symbols Alim didn't recognize. Jowan held out his hand for Isolde and she took it, gingerly lifting her skirt hem as she stepped over the bloody markings so not to smug them.

"You're very brave. I-I just wanted to say I'm so sorry. For every thing. I-I know it's not enough, but-" Jowan stumbled through an apology while still holding Isolde's hand. Alim rolled his eyes, irritated by the sentimentality.

"No," Isolde snapped, taking her hand back from him forcefully. "It's not enough. Save my son, mage and maybe the Maker will forgive you, but I never will." With that said, she stood regal and proud awaiting death, though fear shone in her eyes.

Jowan sighed forlornly and motioned for Alim to stand in the other circle. Smiling sadistically, Alim gathered his staff and stepped over the runes into the circle. Jowan's fingers twitched on the knife as Alim closed the distance. He pressed his lips into a thin line as if fighting for control. Alim looked Jowan in the eye and mentally dared him to try anything. They silently locked gazes for what felt like an eternity until Mallory cleared her throat. Jowan broke eye contact and cast his gaze to the floor, leaving Alim full of smug satisfaction. _Fool. You should have struck when you had the chance, Jowan, for you will never get another opportunity. This is why I have always been greater than you. I do not hesitate to destroy anything in my way. Now, here you are with the boundless power of a blood mage and you lack the will to act. You could kill everyone in this room and use their blood to fuel your escape. You know nothing awaits your future save a painful death. Instead, you squander your gift trying to save your precious conscious. You do not deserve power. You are weak._

With a glint in his eyes, Alim announced, "I am ready."

With a word Jowan gestured in the air, making arcane signs and calling on life and death to rend the Veil. The runes on the floor glowed a fiery red, illuminating the walls and faces of the onlookers. Isolde rose from the floor, her back arching from the pull of the magic. To the woman's credit, she did not scream once, even as blood began to seep from every pore in her body. Even Alim found himself impressed with her courage as she took one final breath and died before them. Her life energy flowed into Alim, tearing the Veil around him as he was overwhelmed with snippets of her memories. He shuddered, his eyes rolling back in his head as his spirit joined hers and was whisked into the Fade, leaving the others and his body behind.

* * *

Mallory had worried her thumb nail down to a numb watching Jowan. The mage was erratically jerking like a dancer in a Lady Gaga music video as he chanted nonsensical words in a continuous drone. As if that was disturbing enough, his eyes were bleeding. Bleeding! She wasn't sure what to expect from blood magic, but she hadn't anticipated it on being so messy. _Duh, Mal. Guess they call it blood magic for a reason. _She mentally chided herself as she looked away from Jowan to the body of the Arlessa. Isolde appeared oddly serene in death, despite the fact she was drenched in blood. Mallory's heart lurched as she looked at the woman, wishing she could at least cover her body. Once her life's blood had been drained, her body had simply fallen to the ground. Wiping away an errant tear, she reminded herself Jowan had adamantly told her the body was not to be disturbed at all during the ritual. _I was wrong about you. I'm sorry for all the negative things I thought. You were very brave and deserved better. I know you just didn't want your son to be taken from you. In the end, you gave up everything to protect him. I'll let him know his mother died valiantly. I'll let him know you loved him._ It was a bittersweet moment for Mallory. It dredged up feeling of resentment towards her own mother for her lack of compassion while giving Mallory hope that despite people's short comings, there were still good people in the world. People worth fighting for. Maybe even people worth dying for.

She leaned back in the chair she had pilfered from the dining hall and cast a fleeting look at Alistair. The templar was standing with his arms crossed looking very much like a child about to throw a tantrum. Though she was still a bit miffed about his attitude, her heart went out to him. _I know he had no love for Isolde, but it could not have been easy to see her die like that. He's going to be cross with me for a long time._ She was saddened by that sudden realization. She had come to think of Alistair as a friend in the short time they had travel together. She delighted in the fact they shared the same flippant sense of humor. It was depressing to think they wouldn't be on the best of terms for a while. Even Leliana was disappointed in her and had distanced herself from Mallory. The bard was kneeling in front of the fireplace, reciting what could only be the Chant of Light.

Feeling very alone and dejected, Mallory tried unsuccessfully to keep her self-defeating thoughts at bay. _Who am I kidding? Sten and Alim were right. I'm no leader. Look at how badly I've messed everything up. An innocent woman is dead because of me. I let the most selfish and irresponsible person I know enter the Fade to try and save a child he cares nothing for. I'm employing the use of blood magic, a forbidden art learned by DEMONS to break the natural laws of this world. And now, my two of my friends… my only friends other than Rocko… are ticked off at me. This is too much. When Alim comes back, I'll just surrender my position and let him be in charge. He can make all the bloody bad choices he wants then. Let everyone hate him- well more than they already do. This was only something temporary anyways, just to save the villagers. I'm done!_

"Mallory?"

Startled, Mallory stopped chewing her nail and looked up to see Alistair looming over her. She gave him a relieved smile, thinking he was coming over to check on her. Her reprieve was short lived, for Alistair scowled down at her and appeared less than pleased.

"I hope you know what you are doing." He admonished. "When we get back to camp we are going to have a long talk."

"Uh oh. Planning on breaking up with me?" she jested, hoping to break the tension between them and at least get him to crack a smile.

"Don't. Just don't." he responded curtly, dashing any hope she had. "I hope you realize just how dangerous this is. We are sending a mage to deal with a demon. And that mage is Alim."

"I understand the risks." Mallory said defensively.

"Do you? Cause I don't think you do."

"Enough!" Mallory tersely replied, standing to her full height. She was the same height as Alistair and leveled her gaze on him purposefully. Her cheeks burned red from humiliation and anger. "You have stated your opinion and I have heard it, but what's done is done. Give him a chance. He may surprise you."

"How can you say that?! This is Alim we are talking about! He doesn't care about anyone or anything but himself."

"Because I have to believe that given a chance he will do the right thing! Maybe I'm naïve .. or just stupid... but I need to have faith in the best of people, rather than the worst. If I don't then, I'm just going to go crazy and become this resentful, cynical, ugly person that expects everyone to be evil or self-serving and grows to hate them. Don't you see! I'll become Alim!"

She was out of breath, her heart racing in her chest. She knew everyone in the room was staring and she didn't care. This choice had not been easy and it was not something she took lightly. She didn't want Isolde to die. She didn't want anyone to die! She wanted everyone to survive and live happily ever after though she knew that in real life that almost never happened. It was like Alim had said, sometimes you have to make a hard decision and live with the consequences afterwards. Which reminded her.

"And another thing! Get off your high horse, Alistair! You go around and criticize everyone's decisions, but I don't see you stepping up and taking charge! How can you judge me when you are too scared to lead even though you are the senior Warden of the group? You let that fall responsibility on Alim's shoulders because you didn't want to deal with it. Until the day you take ownership of the party and do your duty as senior member, while you may certainly express your thoughts, they have no merit!"

Without waiting for him to respond, she turned on her heel and left the room before she could say anything else damning. She entered the first room she came upon and slammed the door shut behind her. She found herself in some kind of study, with a stately oak desk in the center of the room surrounded by shelves of books. She pulled the heavy wooden chair out from behind the desk and sat down heavily. Running in hands through her wavy hair, she tried to untangle some of the knots that had amassed thru her travels, but mainly just got her fingers caught in her wild locks. _I'm starting to get dreadlocks. I need a brush. Or to just cut it off all together. Maybe I'll shave my head, that way no one can sneak up behind me, grab my hair and slit my throat. _She had a mental image of her running through a battle field, bald with her hammer aloft screaming like a maniac. _Or not. I think I would embody barbarian all little too much then. _

Looking for a distraction, she started flipping through some of the books that were left open on the desk. Many of them were logs, shipping manifests, or full of trade receipts. _Not the most riveting reading there is. _She thought as she moved some of the books around and began stacking them neatly on the corner of the desk. _Why do I always feel the need to organize things or clean when I get stressed? I swear, I'm developing an OCD from all this or- Hello. What's this? _As she moved aside a worn manual, she revealed a delicate silver amulet. _Ooh. How pretty. _She held up the piece of jewelry and inspected in the dim light. It was simple, with a hand etched symbol of Andraste's Flame on the front. Tiny cracks littered the surface, spiraling out like a spider's web. The seams were lined with a clear substance like someone had painstakingly glued it together.

Suddenly the door to the study banged open and in barraged Alistair. Startled, Mallory almost dropped the necklace, catching it at the last second.

"I was going to wait till we got back to camp to discuss this, but since you had to.. had to… What's that?" Alistair pointed to the amulet she held in her hand.

"Just a necklace I found here on the desk. Why?"

"Can I see it.?"

Mallory shrugged and gathered up the chain in her palm and handed it to Alistair. The templar stared transfixed at the necklace for a moment, turning it over in his hands.

"I-I thought I smashed it. I can't believe it. It really is hers. He… he must have found it and put it together."

Mallory raised an eyebrow, not understanding what he was talking about. "I didn't know you had a sweetheart. A memento of hers?"

"Huh? Oh. No. It's ummm .. it was my mother's. When Eamon first told me he was sending me to the Chantry, I was furious. I thought he didn't want me. Can't have the bastard son of the king hanging around the castle all the time, right? Makes the royalty look bad. This necklace… it's all I had to remember my mother by…. and I destroyed it in a fit. I threw it against the wall and it shattered into a thousand pieces. I was such a fool."

"You were a child, Alistair. It's only natural to be upset that they were sending you away. Rejection hurts no matter how old you are."

"He must have gathered up all the pieces after I left and put it back together. He tried to see me a few times afterwards, but I denied him. I was just so angry. I should have tried. I should have-" He broke off and looked away in shame, struggling not to cry.

Mallory stood and clapped him on the back. "We are going to do everything we can to save him Alistair. Him and Conner both. I promise."

He gave her an uncertain smile. "Thank you, for finding this. I thought I'd never see it again. It's important, you know, to have something to remind you of family. What about your family? You never speak of them."

"You guys are the closest thing I have to family now." Mallory stated, surprised to find it was true.

"Really? Wow. Thanks. I'm flattered."

"Yeah. You're kind of like the annoying little brother I never had.. nor wanted." She teased. Amazed that just like that, they had fallen back into camaraderie so easily.

"Ouch. Low blow, Mal. Low blow. You hurt my manly feelings. All one of them."

"Naw. You're ten feet tall and bullet proof." She regretted the words the second they slipped from her lips.

"Err… ok. What's a bullet?"

"Hmm.. I don't know. I said bolt. Bolt proof. Like cross bow bolts. They just bounce right off of you." She replied thinking quickly. She made her point by flicking his breast plate with her finger, the steel ringing pleasantly from the blow. "See? Now, let go make sure everything is going ok in the audience room." Hastily, she headed towards the door, eager to change the subject.

"I wouldn't call what's going on in there ok by any definition." Alistair mumbled sullenly.

Mallory sighed as she stepped through the threshold and contemplated banging her head against the doorframe. _Annnnd we are back to square one._

* * *

Alim was growing more annoyed with each step. He wasn't overly found of the Fade in the first place. It was too full of dreamers and people with overly fanciful imaginations. He had just passed someone dreaming of a chamber pot with running water of all the most preposterous ideas. While he was ambitious, he tended to think little of those that dwelt in fantasy instead of dealing with reality and actually accomplishing what they dreamed of. This demon child was playing games and he was growing weary. Twice now he had tracked the demon to different locations in a morbid game of hide and seek, and twice it had fled. _This is ridiculous. Be wary of the demons, the templars always cautioned. They will seek you out in the Fade and tempt you, they said. I can't even get this one to speak to me OR stand still. _

Passing a growth of Fade lyrium, Alim stepped through yet another portal and into an open expanse. Drifting gently as if swayed by a soft breeze, the Desire Demon beckoned to him with one long finger. Alim immediately flushed as he approached, trying hard to control his body's reaction to her perfect body. Noticing his reaction, she gracefully ran her hands over her form, drawing his eyes to her assets.

"No more fighting." Her voice seemed to whisper melodically in his ear though she was still several feet away from him. He grabbed onto his staff as his knees buckled from pleasure, a strangled sound escaping his lips. "Why fight when there are so many more things we can do."

She drifted closer, her scaled tail trailing behind her like a banner. She stopped two feet away from him and tittered as she looked him over approvingly. "I am Aphrodisia. I sense you are not here to take away my prize. You have so much desire is in you. You want much, mortal. Ask, and we shall trade."

Alim took a deep breath and bolstered himself. He hadn't anticipated being so unnerved. Even the demons in is Harrowing had caused no concern, but this one.. this one was powerful. More powerful than he had every experienced.

"Arielle…" he stammered. "Bring her back to me."

"Alas," She replied drawing nearer. She languidly circled him, brushing him with her tail. "What is dead and gone cannot return. Your love has joined us in the Fade and has no vessel to return to. I cannot create life where it has been extinguished. Only prolong what still exists."

"Bah," Alim spat. "What good are you then? You're worthless and this is a waste of time. Let's get this over with. Surrender the child or die."

Before Alim could begin to cast, Aphrodisia interrupted him. "Wait. Still your hand. You care nothing for this child. Let me keep him. I will stay dormant and no one will be the wiser. I will trade.. the boy for a gift of your choice."

"We've been through this," Alim replied curtly. "If you can't bring her back to me, than you have nothing to bargain with."

"That is not what you truly yearn for, is it?" She purred circling him. She trailed her fingertips lightly across his neck, her tapered claws leaving red marks on his flesh. "No, what you want runs so much deeper than that."

"What you desire," She whispered in his left ear as she came around him. He shuddered as her lips brushed his lobe. "is revenge."

She came full circle around him and suddenly.. suddenly he was staring into Arielle's sky blue eyes. It was her down to the last detail: her ash blonde hair that she wore up in a messy bun, her green stained fingertips from grinding elfroot all day, even the faint medicinal smell that mingled with her own clean scent.

"Arielle?" His voice came out a whimper and he fell to his knees before her.

"Yes, my love." Her voice was melodic and filled his head with its clamor, drowning out everything else. "I am trapped here in the Fade along with the many restless souls."

"No. It can't be." Alim struggled with what his eyes saw and what his heart felt, versus what his brain knew. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was the demon masquerading as his dead lover, but it seemed so real. He had missed everything about her: her touch, her voice, her scent. _It won't hurt to pretend, just for a little while right?_ He convinced himself. _I can stop her anytime. I .. I just want to remember. Even if it's for a little while. _

She caressed his face lovingly with her fingers. Their touch was exactly as he recalled. Callused from many years of working with a mortar and pestle yet still gentle and feminine. "I'm so sorry, my love. I wanted us to be together, forever, but they tricked me. I.. I didn't know."

She hid her face from him, silent tears trickling down her cheeks. Alim faltered. He couldn't bear to see her cry. Standing, he wrapped his arms around her, trying to soothe her. "Hush. It wasn't your fault. You did nothing wrong. You were too young. You never should have taken the Harrowing that early."

"I didn't want to Alim!" She sobbed into his shoulder. "They said they'd make me Tranquil if I refused! It was a trap! I didn't know.. I didn't know they were working with the demons."

He gently cupped her face and wiped away her tears. "Working with the demons? What do you mean?"

"I met a fellow mage in the Fade. He said he was trapped there when he was murdered by the templars because he failed to complete his Harrowing. He had been there so long that he couldn't even remember his own name. He acted as a guide and even helped me defeat the Rage demon. He was in so much pain, Alim, that when he asked if I would help him, I said yes. He wanted to travel with me, in my body. How could I refuse? I felt so bad for him. I was a healer, Alim! I didn't know. I didn't know he was a demon! If I did.. I never.. I never..."

She broke down into hysterical crying, burying herself in his embrace. Alim smoothed her hair, his face hardening as he realized what she meant. _Just like in my Harrowing. There's no way two demons would share a potential host. They are too completive. There were three demons in my Harrowing alone. Something must draw them all there and force them to work together. The templars either actually have a deal with the demons or they force the mages to hold them captive and do their bidding. By the Void, they GIVE us to them like a sacrifice. Resist and we are deemed worthy of existence, fail and the demon gets a few minutes of the life they so covet before the templars butcher us. _"They arranged it for there to be two demons. One obvious and one to trick you. Knowing you were healer, the played on your greatest strength and weakness: compassion. I'm sorry too, Arielle. I failed you. I should never have let them take you. I should have fought harder. I should have protected you."

She shook her head against his chest. "How could you? You would have had to fight a whole contingent of templars, Alim. No one could withstand that. You had no choice but to let me die. And now you have forgotten about your promise to me."

"No! I swear to you, I'll find a way to avenge you. I just need more power! I'll find a way, and then, no one will oppose me! I'll defeat them and bring them to their knees by my own hand. Your name will be the last word they utter as I bring their destruction!"

"I know a way." Arielle murmured. She kissed him sensually, melting into his arms. _It is Arielle. How did I ever doubt it? She's dead. She's dead because of them! I'll kill them! _Alim moaned with loss when she finally pulled away and broke contact any doubt that it was Arielle completely gone. "A way to grant you power beyond your comprehension. Our enemies will tremble at your approach and you will avenge my murder. The my soul will finally be at peace. No one will stand in your way. But it will not be easy. That kind of power requires sacrifice. What say you?"

"Anything, my love. Tell me what you require of me."

Arielle clung tightly to Alim, resting her head on his shoulder. Unbeknownst to him, her eyes began glowing purple and a wicked smile gracing her lips.

"As you desire."

* * *

Mallory knelt over Alim, checking his pulse. Jowan had stopped bleeding from the eye sockets about thirty minutes ago, claiming the ritual was complete, but Alim had yet to wake. After receiving the ok from Jowan, she had decided to check on him, though he still advised against moving him.

"Are you sure he's ok?" She asked Jowan. "Isn't he supposed to be up by now?"

Jowan had been rebound and was currently guarded by Ser Perth. He nodded and replied, "He will live.. unfortunately. He is returning from the Fade. It may take him a while to recover."

"Warden, if I may have a word with you?" Bann Teagan asked. Mallory glanced behind her, thinking Alistair had returned from checking up on Conner. The boy had snapped out his possession almost immediately after Jowan concluded the ritual. Other than some memory loss, he seemed no worse for wear and Alistair was keeping an eye on him. When she saw no one behind her, it took Mallory a bit to realize Teagan was addressing her as a Warden. _He thinks I'm a Warden? Oh boy. I'll have to clear that up._

Ser Perth pushed Jowan forward as Mallory approached the Bann. Two knights were wrapping Lady Isolde's body in linens, preparing to move her to the funeral pyre that would burn later that afternoon. Mallory swallowed another pang of guilt and sorrow as she passed the dried blood that an elven servant was hastily scrubbing off the flooring. _That's never going to come out. Hopefully they will just tear out that section of the flooring and replace it; otherwise they can leave it as a memento. I can see it now, a tour guide puttering around with a group and pointing to the floor saying "And here, ladies and gentlemen, is where Arlessa Isolde bled out and died in a blood ritual to save her son from the clutches of a demon. Feel free to sit in the very same magical circle she perished in and have one of our artists immortalize you in a caricature." Yee gads.. Being surrounded by all this death is making me morbid. Ok. Time to put the brakes on this train of thought. _

"Errr… Bann, about the whole Warden bit.." She began.

"That's exactly why I wanted to talk to you." Bann Teagan stated. "As a acting Warden, you get to decide his fate."

The Bann nodded towards Jowan as Mallory's eyes widened in shock. "Me? B-but should that be left to the Arl?'

"Yes, well, the Arl is still ill. If it was my choice, I would put him to death immediately. However, as Warden your authority supersedes my own. So, I will defer his punishment to you."

Mallory gazed at Jowan torn. True, she had killed men before, but only in self defense. While his crime was reprehensible, he had been honest with her and aided in saving Conner. Killing a man in battle was one thing... but executing him? Mallory wasn't sure if she had the heart for that. Deciding against telling Teagan she wasn't actually a Warden, she instead replied. "Lock him up for now. No torture and see to it he is fed. We owe him that much for his help. He will get a fair trial and be judged just as any criminal."

"Very well. Ser Perth, take him back to his cell. In the mean time, Warden, I will have the servants prepare baths and rooms for you and your party. Sup and rest here my friend, for I am certain you are exhausted. I can't thank you enough for what you have done. Eamon will be heartbroken about the lost of Isolde, but at least his lineage lives on through his son."

_Ehh.. Twist the knife a little deeper why don't you. _"Thank you for your kindness." She said through a false smile. "We also require supplies since we are heading to the Frostback Mountains. I know your resources are limited but-"

"Say no more. I understand the importance of you mission. I will have Murdock and his men clear the road and send a messenger to your man at the merchant's camp. I'll make sure you are well stocked enough for the trip there and back."

Mallory sighed in relief, glad that the supply issues will finally be resolved. A grunt to her left startled her as Alim awoke and groggily attempted to stand.

"Here," Mallory said catching the mage under the arm. "Let me help."

Alim weakly protested, but fell silent after it was obvious he couldn't stand without aid.

"How are you feeling?" Mallory asked as she helped him to a chair.

"Better than ever." He replied sarcastically. "I take it things went well here?"

"Yes. Conner is fine. He doesn't seem to remember much, which is probably a blessing. Did you defeat the demon?"

"The demon is no more." Alim said looking at the floor.

_He must be exhausted, poor guy. I know he can be an ass, but he did it. He really came through. I actually feel proud FOR him as well as of him. _"Alim?"

Alim turned his gaze upon her looking marginally annoyed as always.

"I just wanted to thank you. For suggesting this and going through with it. I know we haven't always seen I to eye, but I hope we can get along better in the future. And I'm really sorry about hitting you. I.. I just knew I could count on you to do the right thing." Before she could stop herself, she gave him a quick hug and then excused herself, too embarrassed to remain.

* * *

Mallory was led with Leliana to their chambers while Alistair and Alim were taken the opposite side of the castle to get cleaned up for the funeral. Though the castle was huge, few rooms had been cleared of the undead, so the women were sharing a room for the evening. In a way, Mallory was pleased since it would give her the opportunity to talk to the bard about the day's events. She was also overjoyed that a great raised basin sat in the corner of the chamber, just perfect for a bath. They would be sharing that to since hot water was a commodity and communal baths were common place. She stripped of her armor as the servants emptied buckets of steaming water into the tub. With an audible sigh of pleasure, she sank into the hot water, enjoying the warmth as it turned her skin red. Leliana slipped in next to her and she began scrubbing herself in earnest to get the grime off.

"Hey, I just wanted to talk to you about what happened today. I know you don't approve of my choice, but-"

"It was necessary, just like you stepping in to save the village. I know if there was another way you would have chosen differently."

"Soooo.. we're cool?"

"Actually, I'm kind of hot, but if you're cold we can get another bucket-"

"That's not what- I mean, what I'm trying to say- are we still friends?"

"Of course. It took courage for you to stand up to Alim and to make that decision though many disapproved. Andraste herself chose to ally with elven slaves. It wasn't a popular choice and won her many enemies, but with their help they accomplished many things and almost brought down the Imperium." Leliana said as she washed Mallory's neck.

"Yeah, but wasn't she tortured, burned at the stake, and then ran through?" Mallory asked cynically.

Leliana smirked. "Don't worry. I save the torture for grave offenses."

"Good to know. Besides, I couldn't live with myself if I just let him leave everyone." Mallory said softly as she wrung out the dirty wash rag and handed it to Leliana. The water was filthy and a ring of debris was forming around the basin, but it was the cleanest she had been in days and she found she no longer cared. Her perspective was changing on a daily basis. She was naked in a tub with another woman, where in the past she may have been too embarrassed to join her. Modesty meant little in a world were everyone went to the bathroom in the woods. One of the servants dumped another bucket of hot water into the basin, bringing the water level to her chest. Mallory turned and faced the bard, gesturing for her foot. Leliana splayed her toes out and playfully splashed her. Smirking, Mallory grabbed the bard's foot and began to sour them as she finished her thought. "I know what it's like. … to be helpless. To cry for help and have no one answer.. or worse, have them acknowledge your peril and look away. It's not something I would wish on anyone."

"Not even Alim?" Leliana asked as she draped her arms over the rim of the basin. She lounged back, utterly relaxed and only moved when Mallory hit a ticklish spot on her foot.

"I'll have to think about that one for a while and get back to you. Though, he really pulled it off today. There may be hope for him yet."

Leliana chuckled as Mallory rose and accepted the sheet of muslin the servant offered to dry herself off. Draping it around her body she gazed down at her latest scar. The stitches had all but dissolved, leaving nothing left but fresh new skin, with the exception of that black bruise. _That's odd. I thought it was smaller than that. I wonder why the injury kit didn't heal that. Oh well. I've got bigger problems than a bruise. _Dismissing the thought, she wrapped the cloth around her frame and took another cloth to dry her hair.

"How's your side?"

"Much better." Mallory replied, toweling her hair off. "Almost all healed though it will scar. That injury kit is amazing."

"I wish had one of those the first time I met you. I could have saved-"

"Don't worry about it. You saved my life. Twice now. You're a good friend, Leliana. Probably the best friend I've had in a long time."

The bard gave her a warm smile, her eye's sparkling in the candlelight. "Me too. It has been a long time since I've been able to trust anyone. I'm glad you came."

"Even though you've had to save my butt two times?"

"Don't worry, I'm keeping tabs." Leliana observed. "You still owe me for the first time. I have yet to determine what you'll owe me for the latest rescue."

"Oh boy. I'll never be out of debt with you will I?"

"Doubtful. Though you could start with telling me all the juicy gossip about you and Alistair."

Mallory looked up from drying her hair casting a confused glance Leliana's way.

"Oh, come now. You can't tell me there's nothing going on between you two. I've heard the way you two talk."

"Me and Alistair? No. No way. I mean he's cute and all, but he's like more of a kid brother to me. I just joke around with him all the time. He's so hard on himself, so I just make little... Oh my god. You don't think he's taking that stuff seriously, do you?" _Oh good lord, I forgot he's a virgin. Please oh please, tell me he doesn't think of me that way. I mean I haven't even thought about sex since..._Images flashed in her memory. The men at the bridge defiling her. She gripped the edge of the basin in an effort to control her violently heaving stomach. _I don't want to think about it. No, defiantly not ready._

"Mal?"

"Yeah. I'm ok. Just... bad memories. I think I'm going to go for a walk. Get some fresh air. I'll see you at the funeral in a bit."

* * *

_Why are all the clothes made of wool! So ITCHY! _Mallory stopped wandering the hall for a moment and after a quick look around to make sure she was alone, scratched her back on the castle wall. _Oh yeah! That's the spot! _The dress she servants clad her in was pretty enough, but she felt odd without her armor on and very vulnerable. Much to their dismay, she had refused to leave her maul behind and had it awkwardly strapped on her back. _List of things to do: Invent toilets, cotton clothing, and find a freaking horse...oh yeah. And stop the Blight._

"You don't belong here."

Mallory stopped scratching and spun around at the voice- only to find Conner staring up at her.

"Oh. Conner." She said relaxing her grip on her maul. "You startled me. How are you feeling?"

Conner frowned. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? I'm fine. What about you? You don't belong here."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Mallory asked, feeling uneasy for reasons she couldn't explain.

"Are you lost? My mother's funeral is that way." He said pointing.

"Oh. No. I was just going to.. see someone."

"You're going to the dungeon. Are you going to see my teacher? They say my teacher is a bad man and I'm not allowed to see him."

"That's probably a good idea-"

"They also say you let him kill my mother." A small cruel smile appeared for a fleeting moment and then was gone leaving the curiously innocent face of a child.

"I-I... I don't ... know what you mean.."

"I should get going, before anyone misses me." he said abruptly, turning and skipping down the hall.

"Oh, before I forget. I have a message for you." He turned and stopped at hallway entrance, the glow from the torch light making it appear as if his eyes shined. "He asked me to tell you that he's searching for you."

He let the sentence hang tensely between them until Mallory could bare it no more. "Who?"

"Oh, that man in the armor. Alistair, I think his name was. He was looking for you. Who'd you think I meant, silly?" With that, he disappeared through the doorway. Mallory watched him go, very unsettled feeling like she was being toyed with; doubts creeping into her mind.

* * *

The fires of the funeral pyre licked at the sky as the Arlessa's body was consumed by the raging inferno. Everyone had gathered to pay their respects. Well, everyone alive that was. Mallory looked over at the survivors and realized just how many had died. Only a handful of knights and guards remained, a few dozen servants and maybe a hundred citizens. _If the darkspawn attack them, there's no way they will be able to hold down the city. Even behind the fortified walls of the castle, they would not live long. _She closed her eyes under the weight of her assessment and fingered the bottle of Tevinter poison in her pocket.

_"In my room, behind the loose stone under my bed post lies the remains of the poison I gave the Arl. I beg of you Mallory, take it and end Alim now! Before he has a chance to betray you like he did me!"_

_"But, he saved the child Jowan! He's the last of the Wardens. We can't do this without him."_

_"Why not? Everyone is always going on about how only the Wardens can stop a Blight but no one knows how or why. Maybe they just make these stories up so they will be perceived as useful."_

_"I don't know. I never thought of that possibility."_

_She had felt like pulling her hair out. She wasn't sure. The things that Conner had said seemed to have double meaning, but maybe she was just being paranoid. After all, it had been over twenty four hours since she had slept and even longer since she had a decent meal. She was tired, stressed and freaking out just a little, that's all. _

_"What kind of deal could he have made?"_

_Jowan had shrugged. "It's hard to say."_

_"He wouldn't though? I mean, he even stated that to deal with a demon is foolish. They always get the better end of the deal."_

_Jowan shook his head in dismay. "Want my advice? Kill him. I know you may take that with a grain of salt since I have a vendetta against him, but it will be for the best. If he didn't betray you now, it's only a matter of time before he does. At the very least, take the poison. If he is an abomination, you can kill his body before the demon comes forth, then the demon will be trapped in the Fade leaving just his corpse behind. If you attack him openly, he will transform and you will be in for the fight of your life."_

_"How.. how will I know? If Conner is still possessed? How will I know if he made a deal?"_

_"You won't. Not until it's too late._

Sighing, Mallory reopened her eyes. The flames of the pyre continued steadily as she found Conner's face among the crowd. His head was bowed, sending strands of his coppery hair into his eyes. He clutched Bann Teagan's hand, sniffling occasionally and wiping his snotty nose on the back of his hand. He seemed like a perfectly normal eleven year old boy.. who had just lost his mother in a horrific blood mage ritual after succumbing to demonic possession. _I'm losing it. He's fine. Alim made the right choice. Everything's ok. _But try as she might, she couldn't let go of the bottle.


	12. Brave

**Musical inspiration for this chapter is Josh Groban's "Brave."**

Chapter 12

Brave

The wagon creaked as Murdock's men loaded it up with sundries. Mallory tossed another bag of short grain rice in the back of the cart and went back for more. She passed Alistair and Sten as they continued to load up goods, throwing them a dorky grin and a thumbs up as she walked by. They would have enough for three weeks travel as well as some left over for Bodhan to sell for profit at the Frostback Mountain trading hub. The cart had gone from containing a measly amount of provisions to nearly overflowing to the point there was concern if the ox could pull it. As the men slid the back panel in place, sealing the back of the wagon, Mallory beamed. She was in exceptionally good spirits, being well rested and well fed for the first time since she started this journey. She had slept like the dead- blissfully without dreaming- on her feather bed after the sumptuous feast held in honor of Isolde's sacrifice. Despite the somber affair, it had no effect on her appetite. Mallory found she had put away a surprising amount of food, nearly matching Alistair's ravenous hunger.

Now, with her stomach full, supplies taken care of, and the party about to be on their way, Mallory had almost forgotten her concerns about Alim. Almost. She cast a sideways glance at the mage. Alim and Morrigan stood in the shade of the general store; content in watching others labor in the morning. Catching her eye he gave her an impassive look, but she was unnerved at his attention. She could swear he was scrutinizing her. She had yet to approach him about stepping down from her self appointed position of leader. Truthfully, she was hesitant to relinquish control to him; not because she wanted to remain in charge, but she worried about the damage he would do. She also didn't want to cause another scene like she had arguing with Alistair. Jowan's life depended on the Bann continuing to believe she was a Warden and had the authority to make that decision. While she had no love for the blood mage, he was the only semi-reliable source of information she had on both Alim and demonic possession. She wanted to keep Jowan's counsel just in case, hoping she wouldn't need it.

_He keeps staring at me. _Mallory observed as she caught him out of the corner of her eye. Any time he thought she wasn't paying attention, this tight thin-lipped smile appeared on his face. _Conniving. That's the word I'm looking for. He looks conniving. He's been usually quiet this morning, even during breakfast. No jabs about eating too much or anything. What is he up to? _Tucking her helmet under her arm, she left the mage behind as she went to say farewell to the Bann.

Teagan was giving instructions to the rest of the militia on patrols. So many had been lost in the castle siege that the weary soldiers would have to pull double shifts until reinforcements arrived. He smiled as she approached, and took her outstretched hand in a firm shake. "I can't thank you enough for everything. The Maker himself must have sent you to us, my lady."

Mallory grinned good-naturedly and returned his firm grasp. "Believe me, the food, supplies, and night's rest on an actual bed was all the thanks I need."

Bann Teagan chuckled and pushed his braided hair behind his ear. Mallory was struck by the sudden fact that the Bann was a very handsome man. In all the horror and terror, she had never genuinely seen him smile until now. With the events of the night behind him, some life had crept back into him and with the sun reflecting off his coppery hair he seemed a different man. He had lost a lover, his brother was deathly ill, and was made a puppet by a demon, but he was still going strong. _I can see why Isolde liked him so much. _

"You've done some much for us. I pray that the Maker continues to guide you. Eamon… his condition is unchanged. For now." The Bann began.

Mallory nodded, understanding where the conversation was going. The Arl still slept deeply and there were concerns if his health would hold now that the demon was vanquished. She had stopped by his bedside before leaving the castle to apologize for Isolde's death. She did not know if he had heard her as she knelt by his side clutching his clammy hand in hers, but it was something she felt had to be done. The Arl had lain there, unresponsive, taking shallow breaths as she spoke to him a hushed voice. Feeling no better, she had left his chambers and spoke to the Bann about finding a cure.

"This brother Genitivi? You said he lives in Denerim?" Mallory asked.

Teagan nodded. "One of my knights returned from Lothering and informed me he resides there, studying lore for the Chantry. I have sent several others to Denerim in search of him, but none have returned."

She had already discussed the option with the others and most of the party agreed that the Arl was key to defeating Loghain and rallying the Bannorn against him. His importance was only solidified by the lengths Loghain had gone to eliminate him. Morrigan and Sten had protested, leaving Alim strangely ambivalent about it. In the end, the others were out voted three to two with Alim apathetic, so they changed their plans to circling past the Frostbacks north toward Denerim.

"You've lost much on this day and I certainly do not wish any more tragedy upon this place. Fear not, we will find out what happened to Genitivi and your knights. It will be our priority."

"Thank you, Warden. Maker's blessing upon you."

She clasped hands with the Bann one last time and climbed into the wagon next to Bodhan and Sandal. The others flanked the cart as Bodhan clucked his tongue and with a jingle of his reins sent the ox moving forward. The cart rocked steadily as it made its way uphill leaving the now deceptively peaceful town in its wake. As they navigated the long road, Mallory reached behind the seat and checked on Asala. She had wrapped the massive weapon in some furs to keep it safe and hidden from view before Sten had arrived earlier that morning. _I can't wait to surprise him with this! _She thought patting the bundle_. Let's him remain stoic when he sees this! It's going to be an interesting night._

Little did she know how right she was.

* * *

"There are rumors circulating that a few Wardens have survived and have interfered with your plans in Redcliffe." Howe stated. "Even more interesting is it seems another one has joined their ranks. A red haired Chasind woman whom my spy has identified as a Warden. She appears to have taken over the party as their leader."

Loghain took a long swig of his wine and stared into the fire. He seemed to be drinking a lot more these recent weeks than he liked. "What of her?" He gruffly replied.

He could hear Howe's sanctimonious smirk in the man's tone. Maker, he hated that man, but war made strange bedfellows. "Not to worry, my regent. I have arranged a solution."

Loghain half turned to see a tanned honey-eyed elf emerge from the shadows. His eyes were drawn to the three wavy lines tattooed on his face that accented his refined features. He acknowledged Loghain with a graceful half bow but his posture displayed no humility. A cocky smile found it's way across the elf's pouty lips.

"The Antivan Crows send their regards, King Loghain." His voice was heavy with an Antivan accent.

Loghain turned back to the fire and took another long drink from his chalice. _Slavers. Desertion. Poisonings and now assassins… how far must I go to protect my beloved Ferelden? How much is too much? _Nothing. He knew there was no price he could put on seeing his country free from Orlesian rule. Too many men had died fighting for their freedom. He had killed his friend and King to make certain that his home would not fall into the Empresses' hands, so what were a few more deaths? He nodded solemnly, finishing the dregs of his chalice.

"See to it." He replied into his empty vessel.

"Of course. It shall be done." The elf said with another stylish bow leaving Loghain to drown his conscious in more wine.

* * *

_Wax on…wax off. _Mallory snickered at her mental joke as she polished her helmet by the campfire. Turns out polishing it wasn't just for looks, but helped keep the steel from rusting and corroding. _I don't want the only decent piece of armor I have falling apart._ Flexing her hand that was beginning to cramp, Mallory put down her chunk of wax and polishing cloth and stretched towards the stars. _We made good time today. _She mused staring at the twinkling lights overhead. _I really should stop putting this off and go see Alim. What is up with him lately? He hardly uttered a word the entire day. Hmmm…. I wonder what he's doing. He hasn't left his tent since we made camp. Maybe he's in there with Morrigan doing lord knows what? Gross. Now my head is full of filth and I need to bleach my brain. _She scanned the camp for Morrigan and found her attending a cauldron over her fire pit. _Hmmmm.. guess not. That's odd. Maybe he's just exhausted from traveling?_

Sten emerged from his corner of solitude and removed a smoked salmon from the spit with his bare hands and placed it on a wooden plate. Mallory's mouth stood agape as the giant's fingers smoked from the heat as he dispassionately wiped them on his shirt like he didn't feel a thing and walked back to his spot. He sat crossed legged as he ate his meal almost daintily. Snapping her jaw shut, Mallory decided she had better give him his sword now before he found out she had been hiding it from him. Who knew if Qunari understood surprises? He had killed two families last time it went missing. He might break her neck just for keeping it this long if he was that attached to it.

Briskly walking to Bodhan's wagon, she hoisted herself into the back and retrieved her prize. The combined weight of the sword and the bulky furs made it a cumbersome package and she awkwardly hobbled back to Sten. Putting all her weight on her good leg, she bent and placed the bundle before the Qunari like an offering to a graven idol and stepped out of striking distance, just in case. Sten looked and the furs and then looked back at her. "Is this some strange human custom to dump your garbage in front of my food?"

"It's a present. Open it!" Mallory chirped. She refused to let his dower mood spoil her enthusiasm.

Sten sniffed in annoyance and put down his plate. He unfurled the sword from the furs and froze, his hands hovering over the blade. He mumbled something in Qunlat as he dared to touch his sword as if fearful it would disappear before his very eyes. Finally, he stood with his sword in hand, holding it before him in awe.

"To be complete once more. To have it fit perfectly in my hand. I had thought I would never again hold Asala. How?"

Mallory shrugged. "We found it in some dwarf's house in Redcliffe. I have no idea how he came across it, but it matched your description to a tee. I know it meant a lot to you, so I brought it back."

"You must be an Ashkaari to have found one sword in a whole country."

"Issss that a good thing?" Mallory asked uncertain. For all she knew, Ashkaari could be the Qunari way of saying she was a asshole.

Sten actually smiled, stunning Mallory and catching her off guard. "Flattery. One who has achieved enlightenment, though you lack the self- worth to hold that title."

"Errr…Thanks.. I think." Mallory replied in a highly sarcastic tone. "So now what?"

"I imagine I will kill things with it, seeing as how it is a sword." Sten said casually as he cast his old sword to the ground and equipped Asala.

"That's not what I meant and you know it." She said straight-faced.

Sten tried to cover it up, but Mallory caught the corner of his lips turn up in a smirk. "Perhaps you should ask you questions more carefully."

Mallory took a deep breath, and fought to control her temper. All her life she had felt like a joke and she did not appreciate being mocked for someone else's amusement. Recalling that he took everything literally, she thought about what she was going to say before she spoke. "You have your sword now and are able to return to your home. I would hate to lose a skilled warrior such as you. Will you stay with us?"

Sten smiled graciously. "I will. It is my duty to answer the Arishok completely. If I was to return now, I would only have half an answer. I will stay."

"Oh good." _Now I can ask, ONCE AGAIN, for you to train me._

"Besides, I would hate to miss you flounder about with your weapon."

"Speaking of which-"

"No."

"Oh come on, Sten!" Mallory cried in exasperation. "I got your freaking sword back. What more do you want?"

"This is not about what I want, but what you want. If you go through life expecting others to do your bidding simply because you do something for them, you are going to be disappointed. Asit tal-eb."

"What does that even mean? Are you TRYING to be cryptic? You know what? You're right! It's your decision, but I am currently the leader of this group! I could always order you to train me! You'd have to then!"

"True. Then why haven't you?" Sten asked, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at her expectantly.

Mallory sighed, suddenly losing the fire behind her eyes. "Because… I'd rather have your respect than your submission."

Sten gazed at her for a moment before finally responding. "Then earn it."

Mallory stood dumbfounded for a moment. _Does he mean earn it by ordering him to train me? Or by stepping down from a position he thinks I can't handle? Nope, not doing this. I've been putting this off long enough. They can just drop me off in Denerim and I'll go on my happy way. Maybe I'll find a kindly merchant that needs a bookkeeper. _She walked towards the center of the camp.

"Can I have everyone's attention please?" She shouted. Leliana looked up from strumming her lute, respectfully putting the weapon aside. Alistair was sitting on a log next to her, turned towards Mallory. Even Morrigan drew nearer as Alim materialized from his tent.

"I have an announcement to make." She started. She was shaking and she didn't know why. _Everyone is looking at me. Just do it and get it over with. _"I am withdrawing from the position of leader." She gave Alim a civil head nod in his direction. "I am not a Warden. I should not have interfered. I will defer my position back to Alim. Unless… someone else wants to step forth." She shot Alistair a poignant glance and waited. The templar turned red and coughed awkwardly. She sighed and rolled her eyes when he looked away from her.. and his duties once more.

"Alright then. Alim, they are all yours. I know we had agreed to go to Denerim but you didn't really have an opinion. What do you want to do?"

The attention switched from her to Alim who cocked his head to the side. His eyes gleamed eerily, a strange translucent sheen covering the pupils.

"I want…. I want… " He repeated like a broken doll. An odd smile crept across his face, too long to be natural and appearing to nearly split his head in two. "I want you to DIE!"

* * *

_Do you not love me, Alim? I suffer while we delay._ Alim squeezed his eyes shut trying to block out Arielle's voice in his mind. She had been hounding him all day and he was worn out. He didn't know what was happening, but he HURT. Physically, mentally and spiritually he was in agony. It was as if some great beast had hooked its claws into his very soul and was shredding him to pieces from the inside out. He convulsed as her voice razed his mind and whispered a response within the dark confines of his tent.

"Patience, my love. She has allies. We must wait until she's alone."

_I have given you power beyond your imagining. The blood of others is yours to command. Use it to strike her down. Call the others to serve you as they should. You should be leader, not her. _He could feel the power well up within him. Arielle had been generous in her gifts. Blood magic. The power to control others and forced them to do his bidding: even steal their life force to replace his own. It wouldn't work on Mallory with her resistance… but the others. Yes. He could control the Quanri and the templar…even the bard. He could feel their blood coursing through their veins. When he closed his eyes, he could see it. If he was quiet he could hear their heartbeats.

"Can I have everyone's attention please?" Mallory's voice filtered through the thin fabric walls of his tent. He felt a flash of hatred so raw it made him dig his fingernails into his palms until they nearly drew blood. In his mind, Arielle fueled his rage and desire to kill her, pushing the boundaries of his control. He had dealt with this the entire day's journey and could feel her straining against his will, wanting to take over. _Let me. Let me in, lover. We can destroy her and then have the others kill themselves. It will be easy. So easy. Think of the look on her face as her friends "betray" her and slaughter her. It will be so sweet. Sweeter than honey. Let me in._

Alim stifled a moan as ghostly fingers ran down his spine while he drew back the tent flap and exited into the frigid night. If hearing her voice nearly made him lose control, then physically observing her whittled his patience down to a mere sliver. He didn't know how Arielle did it, but his mind began replaying every humiliating and degrading moment that bitch put him though.

"I have an announcement to make." She started to say. Alim silently fumed as she sanctimoniously stood in the campsite and spoke to him as if she was his equal. His superior. _She mocks you even now. Listen to her, handing you the title of leader now that she is done with it, like scraps of the master to a lowly cur. _Images flashed in his mind's eye. The hammer descending only to bop him on the head like a child. The burn of humiliation he faced when she punched him in the nose. How Alistair- who was under HIS command- followed her instead of him. How even Morrigan refused his order to poison her. _They are against you. All of them. She wants the templar to usurp you. _Alim noted how Mallory gave Alistair a hard glare at her "unless someone else wants to step forth" part of her little speech. Predictably, he cowardly denied the opportunity and turned away. _See.. she'd rather a moron be in charge than you. She thinks he'sa more capable leader. Let me in and I'll make her suffer. I'll make her pay. Come love. Let us be one, just once more. _

Alim's sanity snapped when she asked him what he wanted. What he had wanted had never mattered. No matter how powerful he became there was someone always more powerful that forced him to do things. He had wanted to stay with his family, but his mother's employer had called the templars and they had drug him from his mother's apron at the age of seven. All his childhood, he had dreamed of being free while staring out of the confines of the Tower through the slit of a window in the apprentice quarters. He had wanted live a normal life and marry Arielle and raise a family, but they had killed her and destroyed any dream of happiness. She was just like them. Interfering with his life and forcing her will on his designs. Normalcy, love, safety, freedom, family - these things no longer mattered. He had long ago stopped wanting that, giving them up for the reality of the situation. The only thing he desired was power- and the death and destruction that came with it.

"I want…. I want… " He repeated, a smile spreading on his face at his epiphany. "I want you to DIE!"

He flung back the sleeve of his robe and used his own nails to gouge out chunks of flesh from his arm. The blood welled up and swirled around him as his power built while Arielle cackled delightedly in his head. Reaching out with blood magic, he seized control of the brute Qunari and forced him to draw his sword. The red headed bitch looked around in shock and confusion, not understanding the peril she was in. There was a shout to his right as Alistair jumped to his feet and scrambled for his shield and sword. _Beware the templar, my love. _Arielle whispered in mind. Alim overtook Alistair just as he reached his weapons. The templar fought the spell, but succumbed and lumbered forward as Alim focused on Leliana. The pretty bard screamed as she tried to shake off the blood magic, falling to the ground. Her eyes went blank as he commanded her to stand and aim an arrow right at Mallory's heart. He felt a considerable drain on his energy as his life-force fueled the blood magic and his blood was now streaming freely down his arm, beginning to pool on the ground. It was a huge strain to dominate three bodies and he began to tremble but driven on by Arielle's coaxing, he held them all.

"What are you doing?" Morrigan cried. Alim reached out to possess her as well, but staggered as she resisted with her incredible will. The strain was too great. He couldn't overpower her and hold the others at the same time. Instead, he summoned a torrent of blood and flung her across the camp ground. She hit a tree and crumpled to the ground, stunned.

Directing their bodies he turned the remaining party members on Mallory. The Quanri swung heavily swung her sword at her as flung herself out of harms way. Rolling aside and screaming Sten's name, she back peddled as Leliana let loose and arrow that lodged itself in Mallory's shoulder. Screaming in agony, she clutched her injured shoulder and struggled to gain her footing and arm herself. She had just got up when Alistair bull-rushed her and shield bashed her back to the ground. Alim laughed in delight as the shield caught her in the face and broke her nose, smearing the surface with her blood. The giant flanked her and brought his sword down in a broad arc to sunder her body in half. She blocked at the last second, holding the grip of the maul between herself and the blade.

"Sten! Stop! Stop!" She yelled as her strength waned and the blade got closer to her neck as his might overwhelmed her. She braced the head of the maul in the ground and fought with all her valor, but Sten was too strong and her arms were beginning to quake. Alim directed Alistair around the Qunari and forced him to stab at her stomach. Mallory kicked at the templar, managing to deflect the blow from her abdomen by taking the blade in her thigh. She hissed as the fine metal went through her armor as if she wore nothing at all and hit the bone bone.

Alim grinned wickedly as the last of her strength failed her and she lost her grip on the maul. With a victorious cry, he controlled Sten's hand, commanding it to plunge the blade into her exposed neck. He could feel the cold steel in the Qunari's hand and the muscles tense as he bent them to his will, blooding singing in his ears. Sten rested the tip of Asala in the hollow of her throat as Alim savored the moment.

"Look at who holds the power now, you cunt!" He made Sten press the point down ever so slowly drawing blood. Mallory grabbed the blade with both hands trying to get any leverage to stop the sword, but the sharp steel cut into her palms, showering her with droplets of her own blood. "I want you to die slowly! And know that I did this to you!"

Alim couldn't see the fire burning behind Mallory's eyes. "You coward!" She spat as the tip dug in deeper. "You always have to have someone else do your dirty work because you're too chicken shit to do it yourself! You'd better make sure he kills me Alim! If I live, I can promise you this. You won't!"

Alim snorted dismissively, not believing her threat. He commanded Leliana to shoot her with another arrow, enjoying as the arrowhead pierced her side causing her to cry out. _This is our moment, love. _Arielle cooed. _Let me enjoy it with you. Let me in. Please. _She sounded full of such longing, Alim waivered, the carefully built walls he was holding up shuddering at his indecision. His hesitance cost him his prize, for out of nowhere, Rocko darted in from behind him seizing his leg. Alim screamed in surprise and pain as the mabari's teeth sunk into his ankle and broke his concentration. He had forgotten about the damn dog!

Alim lost his hold on the party as the growling mabari began to drag him off balance. He struck the dog with his staff which had no effect other than causing the dog to bite harder to reaffirm his grip. Cursing, Alim summoned a lightening bolt and struck the hound in the head. With a yelp, Rocko let go and backed away from the mage, pawing his face. Using his primal training Alim summoned a stone fist from the earth and hurtled it at the dog, sending the hound flying into his tent. The tent poles collapsed around the animal and trapped him within a labyrinth of fabric. Rocko whined as he tried to dig his way out of the tangled mess but only became more ensnared. Satisfied that the dog was incapacitated, Alim returned his attention to the others, and began recasting his domination spell.

He had just enough time to register Sten, Alistair, and Leliana looking around in confusion before his eyes focused on Mallory. For the first time since acquiring his new powers, Alim felt fear as his gaze met hers. While he was distracted, she had gotten up off the ground and was limping toward him with a snarl twisting her face into a savage visage. Any compassion it had once held was obliterated, replaced only by rage and hatred and amplified by her own blood that was smeared across her features. Unconsciously, Alim took a step back as she held her maul aloft and charged him, oblivious of her many wounds. She leapt at him, maul held overhead and timed slowed to a crawl as he saw the hammer descend towards his skull.

_You're going to die! _Arielle shrieked in his head as the hammer almost leisurely approached him with deadly force. _Let me in, Alim! Let me in! I'll protect you! _All this happened in a matter of seconds. Alim's synapses processed his chances of survival as very slim. His body was weary from blood loss and he doubted he would be able to even steal the life force of the party members before she killed him. He could always try to control them again, but he'd probably be a bloody smear on the ground before any of them could reach him. _She's right! _Alim realized. _She's going to kill me. _He felt panic mounting inside him, sending his stomach into a fit and drying out his mouth. He was going to die. In the span of mere moments, he had gone from jubilant victory to corpse. _Not so, love. _Arielle soothed him and he could almost feel her arms embracing him. _Give in. Let me take over. Together, we will be an unstoppable force. Together, we will live! _Live. Yes, Alim wanted to live. And he was willing to sacrifice anything to ensure his survival.

_Yes!_ The second the thought was formed, he transformed as the demon burst through his carefully constructed mental barriers and asserted herself in his body. His skin erupted in boils and stretched to accommodate his new hulking form as his bones broken and reformed in nanoseconds. There was agony with the change, as claws sprouted from his fingertips and his back twisted and hunched, but there was power within the transformation. Faster than visible, his new hand shot out, stopping the descending maul mid air. Already, he could feel himself growing stronger as his mind joined hers and he no longer knew where he began and she ended. The Alim that had helped young Jowan off the floor as a child- the teenager that was wracked with grief over the loss of his first love- the man that had plotted and schemed to destroy the First Enchanter and Knight Commander was gone. In his place stood a mockery of a man: an abomination.

* * *

With the hand not grasping her maul, the demon extended on long boney finger and wagged it back and forth in Mallory's face in a mocking "tsk tsk" motion. With a course laugh, he flung her backwards, wrenching the weapon from her hands. Mallory stumbled and fell as she lost her balance. The abomination cackled as it flung her mallet away and pounced on her prone body, plunging its claws in her stomach. With it's free hand, it pushed aside Mallory's deflecting arms and grabbed her face, slamming her head into the earth.

Mallory saw stars as her head met the hard dirt. She saw the tell tale sheen of magic as the creature summoned shades and rage demons to engage the others while he had his fun with her. She moaned as she tried to fight the demon off, horrified as it slowly retracted its claws from her flesh, only to stab them in again. She felt its breath on her neck as he laughed at her suffering. She was vaguely aware of Alistair and the others shouting and the sound of footfalls and clashing steel, but what she heard above the din was the demon's voice in her ear as its horrid face leaned in close.

"Don't worry, Forsaken. I won't kill you. I'll let Hybris have that honor after I deliver you to him."

Mallory went berserk. _Nooo! I can't go back! I won't! _With inhuman strength and a primal roar, she grappled the abomination and clawed at it with her bare hands. She didn't feel the pain of her many wounds and didn't hear her own terrified screams as she tore at the monstrosity. Head butting the creature, she gained the upper hand and rolled on top of it, pinning it to the ground. She delivered blow after blow with her fists, cutting her knuckles open on its razor sharp teeth. It was like being back on the bridge with the rapists, where she lost herself completely to rage. Grabbing the abomination's jaw, she violently dislocated it by jerking with all her berserker might. Its teeth cut deeply into her fingers, but she neither noticed nor cared as she relentlessly pulled on its jowls. With one final tug, she forcefully yanked the jawbone free, leaving the tongue lolling as it screeched in distress. Dark blood gushed from the gaping wound as it flailed about, soaking into the earth and splattering Mallory, mixing with her own. She gouged it's eye out and broke an arm as the abomination clawed at her. Eventually its attempts to harm her became feeble and the possessed mage stilled beneath her. Panting, she continued to pummel it with her bare fists long after it died until she nearly collapsed from exhaustion and blood loss.

Sobbing hysterically, she caught herself with quaking arms as she was forced to stare at what was left of Alim. She gazed at the creature that had once been a man and felt nothing. The sounds of battle had faded leaving Mallory to come to the conclusion that the others had destroyed the remaining shades and demons and were probably watching her in shock. She spat out some of her own blood that was flowing from her nose and, no longer weeping, scanned the camp. She was correct in her assumption. The entire group was openly staring at her with mixed emotions. Morrigan appeared impassive, Sten impressed, Leliana sadden, and Alistair was absolutely horrified.

Rocko had finally made his way out of the fabric maze and approached her cautiously. He whined in concern, licking the blood off her hand and nudging his head under her arm when she didn't respond. Leliana ran to her tent and dug out some poultices and bandages. Taking Mallory gently by the hand, she lead the detached woman away from the corpse and began patching her up, trying to stop the bleeding.

Morrigan finally broke the tense silence with her normal brusque commentary. "What a fool, to deal with a demon. We are better off without him."

"How can you say that? You and him were… you know." Alistair was aghast and began pacing, clearly distressed about the loss of his fellow Warden. He kept looking at Alim's body as if not believing what his eye's were a witness too.

"Do not bring emotions into this." Morrigan scoffed. "It was mere pleasure and convenience, nothing more."

"OK. No, I don't need to know that." He paced more, running his hand through his spiky hair.

"You asked." Morrigan replied haughtily.

Alistair snapped at her. "Nevermind that." He whirled on Mallory, who was sitting zombie-like on a log around the campfire with Rocko at her feet and Leliana tending her wounds. His voice cracked as it raised in ire. "You killed him, Mallory! One of the last two Wardens in Ferelden and you killed him! How could you?"

He was screaming in her face now, wracked with panic at the thought of being the last Warden and the fact he was now in charge. Mallory blinked slowly as she processed this with strange clarity. The adrenaline from her berserker state was wearing off and she was becoming aware of just how badly she was injured. She let Leliana manipulate her as the templar continued to rant.

"Of course she killed him, Alistair." Leliana admonished as she bandaged Mallory's hands. The bard's normally soft and sweet voice was hardened and curt as she defended her friend. "He tried to kill her and control us all. What do you think she should have done? Let him murder her?"

"I-I.. No! But! This is all YOUR fault!" He pointed a finger at her accusingly. "I told you he couldn't be trusted. I told you not to send him into the Fade!"

"That's uncalled for! How do we know he wasn't a blood mage before he went into the Fade? You assume much." Leliana rebuked. "Mallory did the best she could. I didn't exactly see you taking charge."

"I warned you this could happen." Alistair screamed at Mallory. When she didn't respond, he broke off in disgust and began muttering to himself, still pacing and rubbing his worry token. "This isn't happening. I can't do this. I can't. I don't know what to do. I can't be in charge. I can't."

"Pasharra." Sten replied in disdain. "You are unfit to lead. I will take over the mission. You are weak willed and lack a spine. It would mean our failure."

"You can't be our leader. You're not a Gray Warden!" Alistair stopped in front of Sten and then backed up a few paces as the Qunari issued a low warning snarl.

"The objective is to stop the Blight. Being a Warden has nothing to do with accomplishing our goals and being a strong leader. If you need an example of this, I suggest you look to yourself."

"Oh really?" Alistair said smugly. "And how are you going to enforce the treaties? Hmmmm? Do you think the elves will listen to a Qunari that just waltzes into their territory and demands that they send us warriors? What about the dwarves?"

"Alistair does have a point, Sten." Leliana chimed in as she spread some poultice on Mallory's wounds. "The Qunari do not have the best reputation among many races. Many will react with distrust as to your motives since your race is known to conquer and convert countries to the Qun. The reason the Wardens drafted the treaties successfully is because of their political neutrality. It also them to recruit for the sole purpose of defeating a Blight without any fear of political fallout. It would be difficult to convince allies of you intentions."

"I will not require your papers. We will head to the deep roads and seek out the Archdemon directly."

"Are you completely insane?" Alistair asked incuriously. "That's suicide! We'd have to wade through tens of thousands of darkspawn to even find the thing! Then, IF we survived, you want us to take it on by ourselves?!"

"To defeat the Blight we must kill the Archdemon. I simply suggest we take the most direct approach instead of meandering around on pointless searches for holy garbage bins. You would have us search the entire country for the ashes of a corpse while half your species dies. Or is there some other master strategy you propose?" Sten gazed at Alistair as if waiting to hear something profound- and knowing he wouldn't.

"I-I I don't know! I don't know what we are supposed to do, ok! Is that you want to hear? But I won't follow you. Not to a senseless death like that." Alistair shook his head vehemently.

"I'm sorry, Sten." Leliana added. "That is not the path the Maker set me on. I cannot except you as leader."

Morrigan chuckled. "Ah, it seems we are at an impasse. One who should lead and refuses and one who would lead but would have no one to follow him. Tis very interesting. So tell me then, if neither of you can command our party... then who amongst us can?"

"I can." Mallory supplied without thinking. The response was automatic but she didn't regret saying it. She had been slowly coming back to herself this entire time and it was the only solution that made sense.

"You?" Alistair scoffed. "Oh no. No. You were going to step down before Alim went nuts. You didn't want this. Besides, you commandeered the position of leader in Redcliffe and look what happened. Why would this time being any different?"

"Because Bann Teagan and all of Redcliffe think I'm a Warden."

"They WHAT!? You lied to them and told them you were a Warden!" Alistair looked so mad she thought steam might shoot out of his ears at any given moment like and old Elmer Fudd cartoon.

"I didn't lie." She replied dispassionately. "I just didn't correct him when he assumed I was."

"But you're not a GRAY WARDEN!"

"It doesn't matter if I'm a Warden or not. All that matters is Loghain and the people that signed the treaty believe I am."

"Everyone knows all the Wardens died at Ostagar. No one's going to believe that."

"We saved the entire village from an army of walking dead, Alistair! People are going to talk, just like Alim said. Word will spread. All we have to do is visit the elves, the dwarves, and the Circle and get their commitment. How hard can it be?"

"Because we are lying to everyone!"

"Perhaps, but maybe that why your order is referred to as GRAY Wardens, because not everything is black and white. You told me yourself that Duncan said a Warden will do whatever is necessary to stop a Blight. I'm sure a little white lie is the least of sins we could commit."

"A very astute solution." Morrigan purred. "She has remained with us since the beginning, so the plausibility of her being a Warden is not that far fetched. Being human and female, I trust she will be able to negotiate the Warden treaties with more success than a Qunari or an idiot templar who can barely read."

"What?! Y-you're siding with her? That, right there, should be an indication that this is a horrible idea."

"I will stand by you as well." Leliana said, lightly laying a hand on her knee.

"Hmmm... Asit tal-eb. It is to be." Sten mused. He gave her a terse, but respectful nod of acknowledgement. "Very well. You have returned my sword to me and your defeat of the demon was ... impressive. You are Basvaarad. My sword and my arm are yours."

Rocko barked happily in agreement and wagged his entire butt in joy causing Mallory to smile- and immediately regret it when the skin close to her broken nose stretched.

Alistair gaped at them in amazement. The entire party with the exception of his self, had just agreed to follow her. With two words she had united them and got them back on track. He should have been relieved, and he was, but unexpected jealously surfaced as well. Still, he could not deny her point, though he did not like the idea. Seeing no other option unless he took command, he bowed to her with his hand over his heart.

* * *

They had buried what was left of Alim in a shallow grave and marked his final resting place with his staff as a headstone. Leliana had said a prayer to guide his soul to the Maker, though Mallory doubted that's where his spirit would be headed. Mallory lay under a tree with her back propped up on its sturdy trunk as the rest of the party broke camp. They would not find peace here and had decided to move on and find another clearing for the night. Mallory had tried to help them clean up, but was under strict orders from both Morrigan and Leliana to recover and let the poultices heal her extensive wounds. So her she, lay under the canopy of stars and leaves, reeking of herbs and blood, while the others packed. It was just as well they were on the move, for she knew she would not sleep tonight. Too much weighed heavily on her mind.

"_Don't worry, Forsaken. I won't kill you. I'll let Hybris have that honor after I deliver you to him."_

She shuddered at the memory of the words, shaken to her core. She had thought she was out of his grasp, but Hybris hunted her even here in the waking world. She would never be safe, never have peace. She knew that now. He would seek her from the ends of the world and back for his vengeance. All the memories and fears had come rushing back to her, tormenting her. She had never truly recovered from the experience. Instead, she just stuffed all her emotion aside unable or unwilling to deal with the trauma until it imploded and caused her to go crazy. Like tonight. She didn't quite remember what she had done to Alim, but from the looks of his corpse it hadn't been pretty. And she had done it with her bare hands. Her bare hands!

She could see it, in the faces of the others if she examined them hard enough. They were either scared of her or scared for her. Whatever she had become this night was dangerous and it frightened her. Just as knowing that the pride demon was stalking her just behind the Veil.

Sighing, she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples and tried to will her rapidly beat heart to calm down. _Ok. I've got a dangerous and powerful enemy pursuing me that wants nothing more than to grant me a slow and painful death. Apparently, I now have a berserk button that causes me to fly of the handle and eviscerate anything in my path in a pique of blind rage and too top it off I just volunteered to lead the party against the Blight. I guess this is the very definition of the word brave: plunging headlong into an uncertain future and conquering your fears along the way. Or stupidity. Could also be the definition of stupidity._

"Ahem."

She opened her eyes to find Alistair standing over her. _Andddddd.. now I'm about to get reamed again. And not in a good way. This is just not my night. _

As Alistair was loading goods into the cart, he had looked over her broken form and he regretted the accusations he had made. They had been childish and she didn't deserve them. Seeing her like this, she seemed so fragile and small, though he was fairly certain she was one the strongest people he had ever met. Vowing to make it up to her, he had come impart a small gift.

To Mallory's surprise, Alistair knelt and extended his hand. "If you're going to be a Warden, at least in name, I thought I could share at least one tradition with you. Now, don't be angry with me, but I left my tainted darkspawn blood and Join chalice in my other pants, so we have to do this without them. He gave her a goofy grin, hoping to amend their friendship and that she would accept his offer. It took a moment, but a small smile formed and she took his hand. Being careful not to open up all the lacerations on her palm and fingers, he encircled his fingers with hers and recited the words of the Joining.

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be foresworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and that one day, we shall join you."

When he was done, a comfortable silence was left between them as she gently took her hand back from him.

"That was beautiful, Alistair. Thank you."

"Ah, well. It's not the whole shebang. Normally we have a big cup and you choke on some blood and its never a good Joining unless somebody dies, but it'll have to do."

Mallory giggled, clutching her side and the laughter caused her fresh wounds to throb. "Sounds fun. Why aren't we out there recruiting more Wardens so they can share the amazing experience?"

"Sadly, new recruits don't know how to perform the ritual. It's a closely guarded secret only a few know."

"I know this is pretense, but I swear to you Alistair, I will treat this Joining as if it was the real thing. I will make the Wardens proud."

Alistair grinned. "I know you will. Maybe one day, IF we survive all this and IF I can find out how the Joining Ritual is completed, I'll have the honor of performing the real ritual with you and we can make you an official Gray Warden."

"I think I'd like that."

"About earlier... I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

"I know. It's ok, Alistair. I know you didn't care for Alim, but he was you're last connection to the Wardens. I can understand why you were upset. Let's not make a habit of fighting like this though."

"Yeah, we better watch it or people will say we argue like an old married couple." He gave an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck as if he couldn't believe he just said that. "I'm... uhhh... gonna go finish... stuff .. over there. You.. ummmm... you just sat here and rest. Kay?"

Mallory laid her head back on the tree trunk and watched him go. She pondered the significance of his gesture and the magnitude of the words spoken during the Joining. She may not have drank tainted blood but for all intensive purposes, she was a Warden now and that meant everything she did, every choice she made, would be a representation of them. Brave. Yes. It was a good word for the situation. She would have to be brave.


	13. Second Chances

Chapter 13

Second Chances

"Again!" Sten commanded. His voice initiated an immediate physical response in Mallory. Her eyes dilated, her pulse quickened, and she became hyperaware of his body language. He shifted his weight ever so slightly on his back foot and dropped Asala an inch, appearing to lower his guard. Mallory shook her head in disbelief. _How stupid does he think I am?_ She had already fallen for that once, and was certainly never going to do that again.

It was difficult to believe a week had passed since she had commanded him to train her. She didn't care for ordering him about, but as the new leader of the group she needed to establish her authority and make sure there was no doubt that she was in charge. She had also finally figured out what he meant by telling her to earn his respect. He could not teach her by law of the Qun, but he could not disobey a direct order from a superior either. By ordering him to train her, it put him in a paradox, where he could justify schooling her and not abandon a tenet of the Qun. Just as he had done with his orders from the Arishok. He had twisted them in a way that allowed him to stay and aid her, when he should have reported back to his commander. She realized he had probably been directing her to do this all along; she had just been too ignorant to see it. It had drastically changed her outlook on the Qunari and elevated him to a new level of respect in her eyes.

She had reviewed all their conversations in the past, where she was certain he despised her, but upon revisiting them discovered that he was pretty tolerant. His stoic mannerism and the rigidity of the Qun either did not allow him to show affection or had altered it to a form she couldn't easily recognize. She was elated to find he might even somewhat like her as a person: A thought that she was fairly certain of until their first training session.

Her first lesson had been a hard one. Having barely any time to recover from her injuries, they began sparring right after supper on the night after Alim's death. Leliana had objected, concerned about her health, but Mallory was determined to learn as much as she could, knowing time was not in her favor and greater enemies lied in wait.

"Your weapon." Sten demanded. "Show me how you wield it."

With slight hesitation, Mallory equipped her maul and squared off with Sten on the knoll they had discovered a short distance from the camp. The grass underfoot was already hidden by a fine layer of permafrost as the weather got colder and crunched as he circled her, shaking his head and muttering in disdain. "No, no, no. Are you herding cattle with it? Like this."

He demonstrated with Asala, guiding her through different hand and feet placement for different scenarios. He showed her the proper stance for blocking, offensive and defensive maneuvers, and powerful two-handed swings. He then made her hold her weapon in those positions until she hit muscle failure and her arms shook so hard she almost dropped her maul. It was extreme isometrics. The after a short recess, she was instructed to swing her maul thirty times with each grip as he corrected her. After two hours of this, he finally called her stance "barely acceptable", he walked a few paces from her and drew out Asala.

"Attack me." He commanded.

Mallory was confused and unsure. "Now? But I'm exhausted and can barely hold my weapon."

"If you want my training, then do not question. Attack!"

"Okay." The tone she used let him know it was anything but ok. She did as he asked and charged him. He moved like water, amorphous and fluid as he parried her blow. This was not the way he had moved when Alim had controlled him. He had command of Sten's body, but none of the skills honed by years of fighting. If he could have tapped into one ounce of Sten's ability, Mallory would never have even been able to block. She overshot him and ended up with her back to him, completely open. Hitting her with the flat of the sword across her rear, Sten chided her form.

"Sloppy. Again."

Mal grit her teeth and charged again. Her limp was pronounced as a result from the training and the beating she had taken from the abomination, as well as all the walking throughout the day. It was difficult to keep up on her footwork as the bone grated together, lighting up her nerve endings like raging fire ants. As she closed the distance, Sten lowered his sword and created an opening. _Hah! _She thought as she dashed into his space. _I have you now! _To her dismay, Sten brought Asala up and stopped the descending blow with a backhand block. With a quick circling of the blade, he knocked it from her hands and forced her to step backwards, exposing her knee. Then.. then he kicked her in her wounded leg!

Mallory lost the ability to even scream as unimaginable agony coursed through her leg. She nearly blacked out as she toppled onto the ground, clutching her knee to her chest. All she could do is sob and gasp for air as he calmly placed the blade to her throat.

"You are dead." He stated matter-of-factly.

"You asshole!" Mallory hissed through her teeth. She panted heavily since even forming coherent words was difficult with the amount of pain she was in. "Why... would you... do that!?"

"You betray your weakness. An enemy will exploit that and kill you without hesitation. You must master your pain or it will master you. Get up and fight!"

"So you kicked my in my injured knee and made it worse?! What the hell kind of logic is that?! I'll be lucky if I can walk tomorrow, let alone fight."

Sten gave her a rare smile. "You will learn to conceal your injury. To ignore the pain. Or at the very least, dodge."

Trembling, Mallory forced her body to respond. She hurt so much she saw spots swim before her eyes, but she was determined to not give the Quanri the upper hand. Stubbornly, she stood, fire flashing through her veins as she put weight on her knee. Agony greeted her with each step, the pain raw and freshly blossoming anew with every movement. She retrieved her maul and faced Sten, trying desperately to not succumb to the building rage she felt. _Don't black out. Don't black out. _She squeezed the grip of her maul and fought the berserker within. She corrected her stance and took a more defensive approach willing her temper to cool.

Sten gave her a single approving head nod and readied Asala. "Good. Again."

"I think I hate you." She replied in a sour tone, not certain if she was joking or half-serious. She circled him warily.

"Not yet, kadan, but you will before we are done."

"Well, that's comforting."

"There will be pain, but you will live." He feinted causing her to leap backwards out of his expansive range. She bit her lip to keep from whimpering as she felt her knee dislocate upon impact. Giving her no quarter, Sten pressed her further swing by swing as she retreated backwards. With expert precision, he disarmed her again and elbowed her in the chest sending her tumbling into the dirt. Moaning, she looked up at his stern face as he glared at her. He didn't need to say it: she was dead. Again.

"I did ask for this didn't I?"

The barest hint of a smile. "Perhaps."

He had defeated her countless times since then, never gloating and always patient as he waited for her to pick herself off the ground and try again. He demanded that she push herself and didn't like when she whined or complained about the pain. She eventually learned to keep her mouth shut about her aches or he made the training harder. They were only done when she could no longer hold her weapon and he sent her on her way bruised and battered with blisters coating her hands. She received no reprieve even in the safety of her own tent. Sten demanded that she slept in her armor until "it became part of her." Needless to say, trying to slumber in thirty pounds of scale mail did nothing for her beauty sleep.

It wasn't all bad though. With each day's passing, she got a little better: it took him a little longer to defeat her. Like today. He thrust Asala out as she countered and shouldered past him, sweeping the maul in a wide arc to protect her flank. Her knee burned like molten metal, but she ignored the sensation and advanced on him. They locked weapons and circled each other as each looking for an opening.

"You are fortunate that your weapon has no edge, kadan. Otherwise, your frequent embraces with the ground would have done the darkspawn's work for them."

"Nice one. Been saving that one all day huh?" Mallory mocked. He seemed to respond better when she stood up for herself then just brushing his insults aside.

"Yes."

He broke contact and forced her to retreat with a series of sweeps followed by a pommel strike at her chest. Asala's pommel thudded against her breastbone but Mallory stood her ground and countered, aiming for his hand to disarm him. He back stepped to avoid the blow and parried the strike, invading her space and pushing her back. She stubbornly refused to give up her ground and pushed back as their weapons connected once more. The force of the blow made their weapons vibrate, sending chills down Mallory's spine. _I'm doing it! Not winning, but at least not getting creamed as badly as I was. _No sooner had the thought surfaced and then Sten changed his tactics. He feinted left and changed direction at the last second leaving Mallory open as she mirrored his movements. He turned his blade around and drove the maul to the ground, pinning her weapon to the ground. _Oh no you don't! _Mallory thought as she anticipated his next action. Stepping closer to Sten, she let go of her maul with one hand and threw a punch with the other. Sten ducked at the last moment and slammed his shoulder into her stomach. Flipping her over his shoulder, he successfully dislodged her grip on her weapon and – once again- made her eat dirt as she toppled over his back and hit the ground hard.

She groaned as she stared up at the night sky, seeing stars other than the ones sparkling in the heavens.

"Ughhhhhhhh" was all she could utter as she tried to recapture the wind that had been knocked from her lungs. Sten calmly approached, staring down at her from what seemed an impossible height. He frowned at her, his brow furrowing.

"Never let go of your weapon, kadan. Foolish."

"It… would.. have.. worked." She panted, gasping for air. "If… you hadn't…ducked."

Sten sighed and put away his weapon, calling it a night. At least for him. "Up." He demanded. "Fifty repetitions in each position with footwork. Then you may rest, kadan."

Mallory stifled an exasperated groan, knowing he would only make her do more. Sten took this as acknowledgment and headed back to camp.

"You still haven't told me what that means." She shouted after him, finally catching her breath. She stiffly got to her feet and retrieved her weapon. "I suppose it means something derogatory. Like idiot… or silly human female that is gender confused?"

Sten stopped in his tracks, his back to her. He did not face her as he responded. "The translation is the center of the chest."

_The center of the chest? What's at the center of the chest? The heart. He called me the heart? What does…..oh. _Mallory felt an unexpected flush as she realized Sten had basically just called her his friend. Again, the inflexibility of the Qun did not allow an open display of emotions, but if she was clever enough to read between the lines he had shown her he cared for her.

"Good night, Sten." She smiled as she began her stances.

"Marhadan, kadan."

She heard his footsteps fade away as he headed back to camp. Suddenly, fifty reps didn't seem quite so bad.

* * *

_Soooo tired. _Mallory fumbled with the straps on her armor with uncooperative fingers. Her muscles burned from her reps to the point where she considered trying water bending to clean off faster so she could go to bed. Instead, she painstakingly unbuckled her sore body from her breast plate and let the piece fall to the ground. It landed next to the bank of the small stream that cut through the encampment. Mallory stripped off the rest of her scale mail as the frigid air chilled her to the bone and her breath vaporized in midair. The stream flowed freely, but small pieces of ice clung to the rocks that breached the water's surface. Mallory stuck a tentative toe in the water and was rewarded with a shock of cold. _And... I am not soaking myself in that. Sponge bath it is!_

Undoing her chest binding and small clothes, she carefully knelt at the bank, protective of her knee. She dipped her muslin cloth in the stream and began to scrub off the layers of grime she had accumulated from the road. She started with her feet and worked her way up her body, flinching as she touched each fresh bruises that Sten had inflected on top of the old. _It's a variable cornucopia of bruised flesh. _She thought morbidly as she moved to her ribs. _It looks like a picture done in pointillism. Maybe I'll find the Maker's face in the bruises and become a holy artifact. They'll pickle my skin after I die and hang it the Chantry in Val Royeaux so the devotees can pilgrimage to pray upon it. _She stopped scrubbing for a second and shook away the imagery, chiding herself for her morose thoughts. _Man, I am getting more and more morbid as time goes by. I really should – ahhhhhh! _

Mallory doubled over in pain as her impromptu washcloth hit her floating rib. Stabbing pain radiated from that area, sending red alerts through her synapses and making her quake with anguish. When the worst of it passed, she examined her side, thinking a rib had broken from her last tumble. _What the hell? _Mallory turned her side towards the moonlight, stunned to see that black bruise had tripled in size. It was now bigger than her hand and seemed to be spreading outward and across her ribs. _What's going on? _Mallory examined the mark, dismayed that the flesh surrounding it appeared to be rotting. _Crap! Maybe I have internal bleeding? Or a staff infection? I better go see Morrigan ASAP._

She quickly finished her grooming and hurried back to camp, throwing on her armor to conceal the mark from the others. The last thing she wanted was for Alistair or Leliana to freak out while she was trying to establish herself as a capable leader. _It would be bad for my image. _She mused sarcastically as she breezed through the camp to the witch's private tent.

She found Morrigan putting together more poultices by her campfire as she skidded to a halt in front of her tent. Morrigan gazed up at her expectantly as Mallory faltered on what to say. She hadn't really spoken to her since Alim's death and since "Sorry I massacred your lover, hey wanna take a look at my side" didn't seem to be the best idea, she found herself at a loss for words. So, she stood there and scratched the side of nose, trying to think of a way to brooch the subject. Fortunately, Morrigan interrupted the silence in her traditional way.

"Tis customary to speak when you barge into someone's camp, is it not? Or are you merely here to stare at me in an uncanny impersonation of Alistair?"

Mallory cleared her throat and tried again. "I just realized that I never expressed my condolences for Alim. I know you two were close and…"

Morrigan waived her hand dismissively as she poured the contents of her mortar into her bubbling cauldron and began to stir the content. She added a vial of distillation agent they had bought from Bodhan which caused a plume of green and blue smoke to escape from the cauldron with an audible sigh and dissipate into the frozen air. Morrigan fanned the brew as she spoke. "No apologies needed. I meant what I said. He was a fool to deal with a demon. More pride then sense. Our arrangement was one of convenience, nothing more. Besides, had you not struck the killing blow, have no doubt that I would have after he tried to dominate my will. But, that is not what you came to discuss, is it?"

"No… but it doesn't mean I don't care. I killed someone you were close too. Doesn't that bother you even a little bit?"

"We were sleeping together," Morrigan snorted. "tis all. He was a diversion, just as surly as I was to him. Surely a woman as wise as you can separate emotions from such base actions?"

Mallory flushed. "Not… really?"

Morrigan stopped fanning and raised an eyebrow in shock. "Don't tell me you believe in love?"

Mallory shrugged uncertain how to answer. She HAD believed in love once, but she was too bitter and jaded now to give an unbiased answer. Still, she couldn't picture herself being with someone like that just for the sake of pleasure. It just seemed so…. dirty. Not to mention the trust involved. She truly didn't understand how people could be literally naked with someone they barely knew.

"I'd like to believe."

"But experience has taught you differently." Morrigan finished her thought for her. She approached Mallory and looked her dead in the eye. "Love is fleeting. Power is eternal. You would do well to remember that, Warden. The men you will face already know this to be a truth."

"Then I pity them."

"Oh? Well, then, perhaps all this Loghain needs is a hug."

"Maybe. I'll give it a try if we exhaust all other options." Mallory said with a smirk.

"Then may I suggest checking your back for the inevitable dagger you will find stuck there. And don't come crawling to me if you need a poultice…"

"Now that you mention it…." Mallory took a quick glance around and after deciding the others weren't paying attention, she lifted up her armor and displayed the mark on her skin. "Have you ever seen anything like this? It hasn't faded in almost two weeks. Actually, it's getting bigger and I'm starting to worry."

Morrigan knelt down to examine the mark, gently prodding the skin as Mallory tried not to recoil. "Hmmm… Sten certainly has been doing a number on you. Perhaps an internal injury of some sort?" Turning abruptly, she went over to the cauldron and ladled a spoonful of her healing mixture. She blew on the mixture, cooling it further before handing it to Mallory.

"Drink."

Mallory took a tiny sip, testing that it wouldn't burn her. It was minty and crisp, leaving her lips tingling pleasantly where it came into contact. Tipping the spoon, she emptied the contents down her throat, enjoying the warmth that spread throughout her body. She pulled aside her armor and watched in amazement as Sten's brutally inflicted lesson souvenirs vanished before her eyes. All except that one black blemish.

"Interesting. That was a very potent healing mixture. It should have cured almost any ailment." Morrigan said frowning. She felt Mallory's forehead. "You do not appear feverish. Any symptoms? Headaches? Chills? Nausea? Notice anything different lately?"

"No." Mallory shook her head just as perplexed as the witch. "I feel .. well.. as well as I can. Not sleeping too well lately. And I always seem to be hungry, but other than that, nothing out of the ordinary. Should I be worried?"

"I'm afraid this is beyond my comprehension. It would take someone with an extensive knowledge of the body and a background in healing to pinpoint exactly what it is. In the mean time, since there appear to be no adverse effects, I would suggest not concerning yourself with it." She quickly bottled a few of the potions and gave them to Mallory. "Take these and use them as you will. And perhaps suggest to the Quanri that he not break you. Could very well be all the punishment he has subjected you to lately is catching up to you."

"Oh sure." She mumbled sarcastically. "Why didn't I think of that before? I'll just ASK him not to beat the tar out of me. I'm certain he'll go right along with that."

"You asked my opinion and I gave it." Morrigan replied huffily. "Tis up to you what you do with it."

"I know, Morrigan. I'm sorry." She stated biting on her nail. "I value your input and shouldn't be taking this out on you. It's just this thing has really got me concerned. What if there's something really wrong with me?"

"Everything's fine. Trust me."

Mallory gave the witch an unconvinced smile and bade her goodnight before she walked back to her tent. She nodded to Al and Leliana as she passed them and sought the solitude of her tent. Stashing her greater healing potions, she decided to forgo sleeping in her armor tonight, in favor of comfortable sleep. She would only be able to get a few hours before her turn at watch came. _Let Sten harass me. What's he going to do? Beat me some more? _She thought as she bundled up under her furs. _Go to sleep. _She commanded herself. But try as she might, sleep would not come. She kept hearing Morrigan's words echoing in her head.

"_Everything's fine. Trust me." _

_Yeah, but the problem is, _she thought. _I'm not sure I do. What's happening to me? _She wondered in the dark. Alas, the dark held no answers and after a long while, Mallory slipped into a fretful slumber.

* * *

Corrine draped her arms around the assassin's lithe frame and whispered something naughty in his ear. Zevran Arainai chuckled appreciatively at her suggestion, enjoying her warm body pressed deliciously against his. The saucy mage had been his first hire for this mission for more than one reason. Zevran was glad for her company on what would surely be his last days. As beautiful as she was skilled in magic, the apostate mage had come highly recommended by one of his Crow comrades who had recently completed business in Ferelden: both for her talent in killing and in bed.

He tired not to moan as she tugged on his sensitive earlobe with her teeth, trying to pull him away from his duties to more pleasurable conquests.

"Another time, my dear." He said smoothly, detangling her limbs from his waste. "The Wardens will be upon us soon and I'd rather not be caught with my pants down. At least, not unless you think we could convince them to join us, no?"

Corrine pouted, but responded to his playful banter. "With your skilled tongue? How could they resist?"

Zevran threw her a wink and when it became apparent his attentions couldn't be swayed, flung herself onto the cushions in front of his tent with a dramatic sigh. "Fine. You know where to find me if you change your mind."

Zev gave her a courteous half bow as he returned his attention to his carefully selected ambush point. It was perfect: a small valley surrounded by high hills to give his archers the ideal vantage point. Still, these were Grey Wardens they were facing, and he doubted having the high ground would do much good. The mercenaries he had hired seemed oblivious of the dangerous undertaking they had signed up for, but gold blinded the most desperate of men as sure as staring into the sun. Two of them had almost finished sawing through the massive oak that overhung the entrance to the valley. The rest of the men had carefully positioned the cart and oxen they had taken from the merchant they had slaughtered earlier and successfully blocked the only exit. When the Wardens appeared, drawn by the lovely Corrine playing a damsel in distress, the trunk would fall behind them, cutting off their only exit. From there, the mercenaries would surround them and pin them down with both magic and arrow fire. It was a good plan, but he doubted it would work. Even in Antiva, the tales of the Wardens' prowess in battle had reached the Crows and inspired both fear and awe in the bravest of men. More than likely, he and his men would be killed by the Wardens despite having the advantage. Zevran smiled grimly at the thought. It was no less than he deserved and at least he would go down fighting.

_Rinna…. It won't be long now. _

"Zevran!"

The blonde elf shook free of his haunting thoughts and turned towards the scout that was approaching. More like running. His scout was running with a very concerned look on his face. An expression that alarmed Zevran, for it could only mean trouble.

"What seems to be the trouble, my good man?" He asked in a casual tone as not to betray his worry. The scout skidded to a halt in front of him.

"The Wardens…." the scout panted as he bent over his knees. "Maybe an … hour or two behind me. But… there's a problem."

"Oh? What is that?"

"One of ems missing. The elven mage. Two of the Wardens are scouting ahead: the templar and the barbarian along with the bard and the Qunari. I doubled back to the wagon, but the mage wasn't there. Sorry, boss. I have no idea what happen' to em. Does this mean we won't get the full reward if we don't kill em all?"

The two thugs sawing through the oak tree stopped and looked up at the question while the others adjusting the cart and setting traps came forward. Disquieting glances were passed all around as they contemplated the possibility of not getting all the gold they had been promised. Suddenly, Zevran was surrounded by a bunch of very dangerous, very angry looking mercs.

_Braska!.. _This is why he never planned things and just went with the flow. Too many variables. All the best laid plans could fall apart with one change. It would figure that his last stand and final attempt at planning a suicide mission would be fouled up. _On the plus side, I may not have a chance to die by the Warden's hands if this continues._

"What's this about not getting our gold?" Stated one burly man. "I came all the way from Denerim for this. I better get paid."

He hawked a spit wad of chewed elfroot leaf on the ground near Zevran's boot. Zevran watched as the brown liquid splashed onto his leather boots and oozed down the side.

"Else I take it out on your hide, elf." The man continued, a trail of spittle dribbling down his beard.

"That's a disgusting habit you have, friend. I'm going to assume that your aim was not intentional and offer you a chance to clean this up." Zevran said calmly gesturing to his boot.

"What?" The man said dumbly, looking from the boot to the Crow and back to his comrades.

"My boot. I am quite fond of them. Not Antivian leather, mind you, or I would have killed you the second it touched them. They are my favorite pair though. Clean it up." He replied silkily. His eyes were hard as he stared the man down.

"You must be joking, you sodding knife ear. I'm not-"

The dagger Zevran threw cut the man off mid sentence as it lodged in his throat. Gurgling, the man clutched at the dagger as his blood ran down his hands and he finally toppled over and died. All eyes were on Zevran as the entire camp froze.

"Ah, well." He replied dusting off his hands on his jerkin. He wiped the tip of his boot in the soft grass, removing the unsightly spatter. "One less way to split the reward, no?"

There was some nervous laughter as the group looked around uncertainly. Zevran continued his speech as if unaware of the awkward atmosphere.

"Gentlemen…. and lady," he stated, throwing a cocky smile Corrine's way. "We will still be rewarded for our efforts. I assure you, as a member if the Crows, that our employer only wishes for the death of any Wardens we come across and we will be paid handsomely. However… none of us will see any gold if we continue to mill about and miss the chance to take the Wardens down, so with all due respect, I suggest you get back to work."

Zevran did not raise his voice and his tone never strayed from that smooth, confident timbre, but his eyes spoke volumes. One by one, the mercenaries turned back to their respective tasks as Zevran watched on. Once they were all laboring again he turned to Corrine and smiled, hovering over her. Her reached out his hand and stroked her chin, titling her face towards his. He locked eyes with hers and drew her into a near kiss, his lips hovering tantalizingly close. When he spoke, his breath grazed her lips, like a ghost of a kiss.

"You know, on second thought, I can think of no other way I'd rather be caught than WITH my pants down."

Corrine reached up to meet his hungry lips with her own and the two tumbled into the tent as the rest toiled on.

* * *

"Please help! They attacked our wagon!"

Mallory raised on eyebrow at the woman's overdramatic performance. Normally, she would be eager to help someone in need, but everything about this woman warned her something was wrong. It wasn't just the robes that broadcasted MAGE to anyone with eyes; it was the way she carried herself, like someone who had just found out an enemy's dirty secret as opposed to the victim of an attack. She was neither cowed nor injured: She had a bad case of what appeared to be bed-head, but she wasn't even soiled in any way. She stood there with a pleading look as Mallory mulled it over in her mind. _Hell, I'll bite. Why not? Might as well put to use all the lessons Sten has given me. _

"Show us the way." She said. As the woman ran ahead, Mallory equipped her maul wondering if this was the price to pay for being a Warden. Overall paranoia coupled with the very real possibility that everyone really was out to kill them.

"Be on your guard." She whispered to the other as they followed the woman. "Something's off."

"Yeah… her acting abilities." Came Leliana's snarky reply as she readied her bow.

Mallory snorted barely concealed laughter as they followed the woman through the valley. Mallory warily scanned the rising hills as the slopes became steeper and steeper, gradually boxing them in. _Ok. This is starting to look like great spot for an ambush. Maybe this wasn't the best idea. _

She continued to have doubts as they passed under the trunk of a dead oak. Mallory stepped into what appeared to be a pile of saw dust, kicking it up into the air as she limped and causing her to sneeze. She came to a halt as she sneezed again, waving the others to continue forward while she collected herself. Through watering eyes, she witnessed the woman break into a run and halt in front of a blonde elf. A brief nod was exchanged and then as the "distressed" woman stepped aside, the elf gestured to the hills.

With a quick movement of his hand, previously concealed archers fanned out along the hilltops and flanked the party. Several more dangerous looking individuals emerged from behind a cart that was blocking the path, all armed and armored. Mallory heard a thud above her and glanced up as someone kicked the tree trunk she was standing beneath. Her eyes widened as the trunk began its descent: creaking in dissent as gravity seized its weight and splintered the remaining intact wood as it toppled over. Mallory dove blindly out of its trajectory, tumbling forward as her feet barely cleared its destructive path.

Mallory landed –naturally- on the side occupied by the black bruise. Hissing in pain, she pulled herself up just in time to see the elf draw two swords and exclaim in an accent. "The last of the Gray Wardens die here!"

_Like hell we will! _Mallory thought as she righted herself. She had officially been an unsanctioned Warden for less than two weeks, and already someone was trying to kill her! She knew that it was bound to happen, but couldn't she just travel the countryside in peace without someone trying to separate her head from her body? Shouting orders, she charged the mage first, determined to eliminate that threat as soon as possible, lest demons erupt from her body as well.

"Leliana, throw a fire grenade at the archers and then finish them off from a secure location! Sten, circle round that boulder and take on the ground troops. Alistair, help Sten and flank the enemy!"

The mage hurtled a bolt of lightening Mallory's way, but it bounced harmlessly off her with no effect. The woman frowned and then cast again, resulting in a glowing glyph appearing on the ground. Mallory breezed through it without any effort, much to the surprise of the mage. She began another spell as Mallory closed the distance and swung the hammer. The head slammed into the dainty mage's torso, folding her in half like a piece of paper. She gasped and coughed up blood, falling to all fours as Mallory ended her misery with a final blow the head.

The ring of magical energy continued to glow as she stood in the center and searched the field for another enemy to engage while keeping an eye on her friends. Leliana had taken out many of the archers and was lobbing another grenade at the last one stubbornly clinging to life. Sten and Alistair were occupied with the ground troops and pushing them back. Mallory had just settle on a new target when the glyph she was standing on flared up and she heard cursing and a thud behind her.

"Braska!"

Bewildered, Mallory turned around and spied the golden haired elf sitting in the dirt, looking rather caught off guard. There was a large skid mark in the ground and grass stains on his legs, suggesting that he had been hurtled there by some unseen force. Mallory's brow furled as she noticed both his daggers were still clutched tightly in his hands. _That sneaky bastard! He was going to stab me in the back! Lucky for me this glyph seems to repel attackers…. Well, except me. I'll have to keep that in mind. Could come in handy in the future. In the mean time though, looks like I found myself a new target. _

Eager to test her newly acquired skills, she stepped out of the circle of protection as the assassin did a kip-up and landed dexterously on his feet.

"Well, not exactly the best first impression I've ever made." He said casually as he twirled his blades around in his hands. "Forgive my clumsy feet, my dear. I promise I will be more attentive during our own dance. Shall we?"

Mallory found a smile sneaking up on her as a result of the sheer ridiculousness of the display. _Is this guy for real?_ She relented and gave into the grin as she squared off with him. _Whatever. Bring it on twinkle toes._

"I'm new to this, so try to go easy on me ok?" She replied circling him, hoping he would underestimate her and give her an edge.

"My dear Warden, if I am anything.. it's easy."

The way he said it sounded so dirty, it flustered her to the point she wasn't ready for his first attack. He swept his dual blades out in a wide arc forcing her to jump back to avoid being cut in half. The tips of the blades grazed her midsection, glancing off her armor. She ended back on the glyph of repulsion, irritated at herself for forgetting Sten's lessons that quickly and letting the elf distract her. The jump also did a number on her knee, which was aching more than usual from the impact. With a growl, she hefted her maul and stepped out of the safety of the circle, determined to wipe that smug grin off his face. The elf laughed haughtily as she swung at him and he rolled to the side out of her reach.

Flanking her, he stabbed at her back, cutting her sides and arms with rapid movements. She whirled and smashed the maul into the ground where he had stood only moments before. Roaring in frustration, she engaged him as he met her blow for blow.

"Parry. Parry. Thrust. Thrust. Good!" He said mockingly as their weapons connected. Catching the head of her maul in the cross section of his blades, the assassin forced her weapon to the ground. Forming a neat X, Zevran pinned the head of her maul to the earth between his two swords, leaving her vulnerable for his next strike. Mallory seethed as she was unable to free her hammer from his dual blades and realized the mortal danger she was in.

"Now, Warden." He replied gazing into her eyes. "Time for my favorite part. The big finish!"

Mallory saw him shift his grip on his swords and new he was moving to strike her down. There was no way she would be able to get her weapon free in time to block and he had positioned her so her neck was fully exposed. All it would take is one swift movement to slit her throat. Not knowing what else to do, she decided on a last ditch effort: The same move she had tried earlier with Sten.

"I don't think so!" She cried letting go of her maul. The Crow's eyes widened in shock as her fist careened into a directly intercepting path with his face. All he saw is knuckles as they drew nearer and collided with his cheek. Colors exploded in front of his eyes as he reeled backwards from the force of the impact. Mallory could tell the elf was fighting to stay conscious as he dropped his weapons and clutched his head and staggered forward. Sidestepping, she cleared a path, watching with amusement as he approached the magical glyph still spinning on the ground. He stepped into the glyph of repulsion and from that angle was thrown back into the nearest boulder. Smacking his head on the hard stone, he moaned once as he fell over and backed out as Mallory clapped, applauding his "big finish."

* * *

"What are we going to do with him?" Alistair inquired, nudging the assassin with his toe. Mallory had knelt over him, removing any concealed weapons and looting anything of value. They had finished of the rest of the assassin's companions and were searching the camp for valuables before departing. Mallory pulled yet another hidden dagger out of his boot while contemplating the same thing. He was just unconscious, not dead, and it seemed yet another person's fate rested on her shoulders. It was something she knew was going to become more and more frequent and idea she wasn't all too comfortable with.

"I recognize this symbol." Leliana supplied as she looked over his weapon. She pointed to a brand on the forge of the blade. To Mallory, it looked like a pair of eyes with running mascara. "He's an Antivan Crow. A guild of assassins for hire. They are said to be very skilled. Maybe we should take him with us? He could be useful."

"Maybe." Was all Mallory committed to as she inspected him further.

_I should kill him. _She thought as she turned him over. _Why give someone else the chance to betray me? _The thought was a bitter remnant of Alim's betrayal. She was tired of giving people the benefit of the doubt and having them turn around and betray her trust. True, she had wanted to believe in the best of people, but the mounting evidence suggested otherwise. She picked up one of his own daggers and placed it on his throat frowning. _Just cut his throat and leave him to bleed out. It's a more humane end then he would have given you- planning on stabbing you in the back. Literally. Why leave him alive and give him the chance to do it again? He's just like Alim. Another person who would take advantage of your better nature and then strike when you trust them. Save yourself the pain. If you do this, and he deceives you, it may be more than your life he takes. _She looked at the faces of her friends. She recalled how vacant Leliana's eyes had appeared when Alim had control over her. How Alim could have made her do anything- or worse- done things to her that she could not have resisted. It was her fault. Because she was tender hearted, her friends had suffered and almost died. She couldn't take that chance. Making her decision, she started to draw the blade across his throat.

"Rinna." The word was breathless, like a quiet prayer from the assassin's lips. Mallory hesitated as a thin line of blood appeared on his neck where she held the blade. Her hand began to shake. There was something in the way he had uttered the word: something that had moved her. Something she knew well. Regret. Sighing, she dropped her hand and tossed the knife aside.

"Do we have any rope?" She asked no one in particular. "Let's find something to tie him up with. I want to ask him some questions."

Maybe he wasn't the only one that deserved a second chance. Maybe in an odd way, she did too.


	14. Interrogation

**Short chapter. Going on vacation so may be a bit longer on my next update. Enjoy!**

Chapter 14

Interrogation

Zevran was brought back to consciousness by a rough slap on his still tender cheek. Groaning, he opened his eyes to find the visage of the Gray Warden leader staring back at him. As his eyes unblurred, her features snapped into focus causing him to slightly recoil. His first thought was that she was homely, with her strong -almost manly- jaw line and a nose slightly too big for her face. But her eyes; her eyes were gorgeous. Green with flecks of gold and blue that shimmered like the Antivan Sea in the morning, they drew him in as she glared at him with a disapproving frown.

"So you're finally awake. Good." She stated standing to her full height and stepping back. The others were watching him warily as he evaluated them with a quick once over. _Hmmm.. It would appear that I am not dead. They must want information from me. I just have to convince them I more valuable alive. This may work out to my advantage. If I can persuade her to allow me to join them, then I can finally be free of the Crows and have a very powerful ally to stand behind. The plain one probably hasn't had a lot of male attention in her life. I mean, look at her. Too manly for a woman and too womanly for a man. Though one could argue she possesses the best of both worlds. Now there's a distracting thought. Just lay on the charm and she'll be eating out of the palm of your hand in no time. Still...if I cannot convince her, then I will not die tied on the ground like an animal. I may perish, but at least one Warden will join me. _Zevran tested the rope that bound his hands behind his back and did a mental check of all his conceal weapons hoping they had missed one as he gave her a fetching smile. He felt around the small of his back until his fingers closed around a flat throwing dagger they had missed hidden in the seam of his armor. He deftly extracted the blade and began sawing through his bonds as he spoke, hoping to distract her while the rope frayed.

"Ah, it would seem I am at your mercy." He said smoothly. "How can I be of service to such a beautiful lady?"

The Warden blinked in shock, casting an odd look his way like she didn't understand what he was saying. He saw the telltale color of a blush slinking along her checks as she cleared her throat and spoke to him.

"Who are you and who hired you?"

"To the point, huh? I do so love direct women. My name is Zevran Arainai – Zev to my friends- a member of the Antivan Crows. And I'm willing to bet you already know who hired me."

"Loghain." She said the word as if it was a curse. She half-turned towards her other companions, never letting him out of her sight. He continued to work the blade back and forth along the rope, feeling the satisfying snap of another strand. "Wonderful. I guess we get to add the Crows to the list of people trying to kill us."

"Great. Darkspawn, Loghain, and now assassins swooping down upon us. This is what I love about being a Warden. How it unites everyone." Drawled one her of companions. Zervan's eyes freely roamed over the young man's body. _Hmmmm... had I known that the Wardens attracted such strapping young men, I might have tried to leave the Crows sooner._

"Pity it seems to unite them against us." Their leader supplied.

"Well, fortunately for you, you have an advantage." Zevran supplied. He waited until he had her full attention before he continued, knowing he had to word this careful if he was to live. "Me."

"You?" She asked skeptically.

"Yes. I know all about the Crows since I was trained by them as a boy. Their tactics and methods as well as the resources they have available at their disposal. So, here is my proposal. Let me join you, and I will share with you everything I know. I can shine your armor, clean your boots… warm your bed?"

The Warden busted out in a jovial laugh. She laughed so hard, tears formed at the corners of her eyes and she had to clutch her sides to keep from doubling over. Zevran found it just a bit offensive, but he kept his grin from slipping and continued to try and free his hands. Finally, once she could breathe again, she spoke to him.

"You must think I'm utterly stupid to take up an assassin's offer to watch my back!"

"I think you are dangerous and an utterly gorgeous sex goddess. One of my favorite combinations." _Ehhh.. .little white lie and maybe overkill, but my charisma has never failed me so far._

A variety of emotions flickered over her features: confusion, irritation, and shock followed by more confusion. Finally, she turned towards her fellow red head with the ample assets and shrugged.

"He must be referring to you because he CAN"T he talking about me."

"Errr…. No, Mallory." She replied. "I think he was talking about you."

"Your friend is right, Mallory." He said, purposefully rolling the "R" in a seductive way.

Her response was not quite what he anticipated. Frowning, she leaned in and waived her hand in front of his eyes. Zevran followed the movement unsure of what she was doing and halted his sawing. After a few seconds she pulled her hand back and huffed in dismay. "Ah. I see why I was able to defeat you so easily now. You're blind! Damn it! I actually thought I was getting better at this."

It took Zevran a few moments to realize what she referring to. _That comment she made about her being new to fighting was true! Ah… I was defeated by an amateur! If I wasn't already dead to the Crows, I could never show my face there again. They would never let me live it down. _Changing his strategy, he dropped the seduction attempt and tried a new approach as he resumed cutting through his bonds. Several of the rope threads had already split under his feverous assault.

"I cannot return to the Crows. Since I have failed to kill you my life is forfeit. I wish to live. Let me serve you and I promise you will be pleased. I have many skills to aide you in your quest."

"Like?" She asked crossing her arms over her chest.

"Pickpocket, lock picking, poison crafting, and trap making. I am also, with this one exception," He gave her an acknowledging nod, "a very skilled assassin. If you have any enemies you need eliminated, quickly and quietly, than I am your man."

"And how do I know you won't just kill me later?"

"To what end? My life is already lost to the Crows. Killing you would gain me nothing but a swifter end at the hands of my former colleagues. At least this way, we can band together and have a better chance of survival, no? Besides, there are worst fates than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess."

"OK. First of all ... sex goddess? Does that crap really work on most women? And second of all, they would kill you just for failing? Even if you murder me later?" Mallory seemed skeptical. She shifted the weight off one leg to rest her mass fully on the other. Zevran's keen eyes didn't miss the way she favored her one leg. _An old injury perhaps? How did I not notice that before? If I had, I could have disabled her and killed her in an instant. Ah, well. Perhaps fate had something else in mind. _

"Failure is failure in the eyes of the Crows. One of the downsides of working for them. They will supply you with wine, women, and men, which ever you fancy… but try to leave and the severance package is garbage."

"So… you know too much to live?"

"And I'm far too pretty to die." He said wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Matter of opinion." She replied curtly, though Zevran saw a corner of her mouth upturn in a smirk. She brought her hand near her lips as if to chew on a fingernail and then returned it to her side with a grumble when she realized it was gauntleted. He could see her mulling it over in her mind as idly scratched her side. _Too kill him or not too kill him. Think fast Warden. It would be a pity to have to slay you. _He gently stretched his bindings, confirming that a solid jerk would free him. He rubbed his thumb over the flat of his blade, readying it in his hand as she contemplated his fate. The blade was tiny, only about the size of his forefinger, but he knew he was skilled enough to lodge it in her throat as long as she was close enough.

With a sigh, she withdrew a dagger from her side and approached him, a hard and determined look in her eyes. Zevran frowned when he saw it was his own dagger she held in her hand as she knelt in front of him. _She's going to kill me with my own weapon! That's just uncivilized.. even for a barbarian! _Zevran tensed his muscles as she got down on one knee before him. A fleeting look of pain passed across her features as she struggled with her injury. She pointed the tip of the dagger in his face and stared directly into his eyes. His finger twitched on his concealed blade as she leaned in uncomfortably close. Zevran knew hesitation could cost him his life. It was the first lesson the Crows had beat into him as a young child. Yet, though she was invading his space and brandishing a weapon in his face in a threatening manner, he found he could not strike. Her eyes captivated him, almost pleading as she spoke.

"I'm trusting you. Don't make me regret this decision." She held his gaze a bit longer, and then shuffled around behind him to severe his bonds.

"Wait. What?" Exclaimed the young man with the spiky hair. "We are taking the assassin with us?"

"The odds aren't exactly in our favor, Alistair. We need all the help we can get."

Zevran palmed his blade as he felt her tug at his bindings. He snickered at her squeak of surprise when he snapped the frayed rope in two with a quick movement and casually threw her a smile over his shoulder. He laughed outright as she went from appearing perplexed to downright ornery as he stood with ease and turning to face her, offered her a hand up. She stared at his hand with a knitted brow as if his fingers had transformed into venomous serpents, refusing his aid. Unperturbed, Zevran reached down and took her hand anyways, hauling the Warden to her feet as gently as he could. She stood a full head taller than him, and peered down at him, as he gave her a dashing grin. Still holding her hand, he swore his allegiance to her.

"I hearby declare myself your man through and through. I shall serve and protect you until my death or you no longer have need of me. Or.. until you can find a better use for me." He offered suggestively. She violently took her hand back as if his skin was coated in the remains of an acid flask and thrust his dagger into his hands. She gestured for Alistair to give him back his sword and walked away, shaking her head. As Zevran began rearming himself, his sharp ears picked up her muttering even at a distance. He grinned at her comment.

"I regret this already."

* * *

"Shine your armor while you sleep, Warden? I'll be careful with it. I've been told I have a delicate touch."

Zevran languidly leaned against a tree on the outskirts of camp, with one foot propped against the trunk. He tossed a green apple from hand to hand as he watched the Warden drag herself back to the campsite. Mallory gave the elf a deadpan look, not in the mood for his inappropriate jokes. She had just finished another training session with Sten and he had managed- once again- to strike her in the knee. This was the third night in a row that had happened since she had allowed that distracting elf to join them. Granted, during the few scraps they had with straggling bandits and darkspawn, he had proven to be a valuable asset; Single-handedly taking down an Alpha Hurlock before the others could get to it. Still, he never shut up. Every word out of his mouth was a double entendre or allusion to something sexual. And he hit on anything that breathed! Even poor Alistair, who had been so flustered he just kept repeating the same thing over and over again in disbelief when the elf had offered to give him a very intimate tattoo. Mallory didn't consider herself prudish, but some of the things he said made her ears burn hotter than the afternoon sun.

She didn't know why, but the assassin's constant repartee aggravated her. She couldn't help but get the feeling she was being mocked, even if he was genuinely trying to be kind. _It's all the goddess comments. Who is he kidding, trying to suck up to me like that? There's no way on this world or the next that I'm considered gorgeous by anyone's standards. What a load of shit! He thinks empty flattery will make me lower my guard and secure his position in the party. Well, I'm not stupid. I've got my eye on you, pretty boy. You're not going to get under my skin that easily. Just give me a reason, and I will cast you out of here so fast you won't know what hit you!_

"No, thank you." She replied smiling sweetly. "Sten wants me to be in my armor as much as possible, so that means I have to sleep in it."

"Oooh? I fail to see where that would be an issue."

Mallory stopped dead in her tracks and glared at the assassin. Smiling, he took a bite of the apple and quirked an eyebrow in her direction. He chewed it slowly, licking his lips with a sweeping motion as a bit of clear juice beaded on his bottom lip. _Is he…seductively eating an apple? Really? Oh my god. _She felt a rush of blood to her face as she blushed at his antics. Even in the dark of twilight, she was certain it was visible. _I hate being a red head. Can't freaking hide anything. He's trying to embarrass me, I know it. Nope, not falling for this. Two can play at this game. _

"You know, on second thought, you CAN shine my armor for me. I'm about to go bathe down by the river, and I certainly won't be wearing it then. I don't want to get it all _wet._" She emphasized the word "wet", leaving it hanging for a moment as she continued. "After all, it's only steel. It could rust and fall apart in the _heat _of battle. I wouldn't want to be standing _naked _in the middle of a battlefield_. Imagine that_. Let me go to my tent and change. I'll leave my armor in your _capable _hands. Oh, and I'll make sure Leliana is with you the entire time, that way you can show off your _solo hand polishing _skills. Not that I don't trust you to do a good job, what with all the _practice _you've probably had. I'm sure she'll be impressed at the way you can _handle _such a _minute _task, _all by YOURSELF._"

She smiled, thinking she had the upper hand. Zevran took another bite of his apple, a twinkle in his eye as he swallowed and replied.

"Why, Warden! I had no idea you desired an audience for such feats. You continue to surprise me. If you hurry back, perhaps you can join us. No doubt the task will be far more _pleasurable_ with the three of us going at it together."

He took another bite and then gazed at the apple still resting in his hand. His neat teeth marks dimpled the surface as some of the sweet juice ran down his fingers. With a smirk, he tossed it towards Mallory, who caught it reflexively in her right hand.

"Best I not handle that any further." He stated as he earnestly sucked the juice from his fingers. He maintained eye contact the entire time his soft tongue glided over his digits. "I wouldn't want to get your armor all sticky."

Mallory wasn't quite sure what expression she wore, but it must have been amusing. Chuckling softly to himself, Zevran faded into the shadows. His voice echoed off the trees as he headed back to camp.

"I'll await you at your tent, Warden. And I would suggest being quick about your bath. It's a bit nippy out. You wouldn't want to get frostbite. Though, I 'd be more than willing to warm your extremities should you need it."

_Oh, that son of a bitch. _Turning even redder, Mallory crushed the apple between her fingers and threw the ruin away in disgust. _Ohhh ho ho. He's good, but this isn't over yet. It is SO on! _She stomped back to camp unaware just how similarly her thoughts mirrored the assassin's.


	15. Signs

**AN: I know I said it may be a while since next update, but my muse is beating me over the head with the inspiration brick, so if I don't write she's apt to dash my brains out. Enjoy!**

Chapter 15

Signs

"Warden! Look out! Don't move."

Mallory froze mid-step as Zevran called out a warning. She glanced around rapidly, searching for danger lurking on the sidelines of the Imperial Highway. Nothing. There was no movement, no sound, nothing to indicate a threat lurked behind the boulders that narrowed the path. _Tch. He probably just wants attention. I've been ignoring him for most of the day and now he's acting out. _They had been battling back and forth the last few days, constantly trying to out do each other with innuendo and risqué remarks. Mallory was loathe to admit it, but it was actually kind of fun matching wits with him. She had even burned him horribly by comparing his rapier wit to something else flimsy and skinny he likely possessed. It had been funny, and even Alistair – who had be mortified throughout the entire exchange- had laughed. Then he went and made a joke about her being so flat chested that if she had a newborn, it would starve. It wasn't the fact that she was lacking in that area that bothered her, but the mention of a child would always be a raw area. She knew he wasn't aware of her inability to conceive, but it didn't make the comment any less painful. All it did was remind her, once again, that she was broken. Though made in jest, the jibe had hurt Mallory's feeling so much she had told him to shut up and stopped talking to him for the rest of the trip. Zevran had seemed confused about her sudden change in demeanor, but she wasn't about to explain it to him and so they had fallen into an uncomfortable silence.

Mallory glowered at Zevran as he jogged towards her. _What now? There's no danger. He's probably just setting me up to be the butt of some joke or bad pun. _ Deciding she had had enough of his antics; she put her foot down anyways and continued forward.

"NO!" Zevran shouted.

The next thing she knew, Mallory was knocked off her feet as the elf tackled her to the ground. They rolled a few feet before coming to a stop with the assassin pinning her down. Mallory coughed up dirt and growled at him.

"Zevran! What the hell! Get off me!"

"Mallory! Are you ok!? I'm coming!" Alistair yelled.

She could see Alistair from the corner of her eye advancing with his weapon drawn and appearing very cross. _He probably thinks he's attacking me. Maybe he is? _She did a furtive search to see if he was armed, but his weapons were still secured on his back.

"You had BETTER have a good reason for this!"

He gazed down at her with a smirk and Mallory was suddenly very aware of their bodies' contact. She turned scarlet as he shifted his weight and half turned his body to calmly point where she had been standing.

"Wha-!?"

But then she saw it. Concealed behind the tall grass, with rusty edges that were cruelly serrated, the bear trap lay agape just waiting for her descending foot. She had never even known it was there. _If I had stepped in that… _She didn't want to think about what damage the trap would have done to her already mangled leg. _He…he saved me. He could have let me walk right into it. I choose not to listen to his warning. A lesser man would have just let me step right into it and said I deserved it. Maybe.. maybe I misjudged him. _

"I don't want your pretty legs getting scarred." He said smoothing, gazing down at her with a cocky grin.

_Never mind. I think I've got him pegged pretty accurately. _"Too late for that." She replied acidly.

"Everything ok, Mallory? Did he hurt you?" Alistair huffed, pointing his sword at the assassin's throat. It only made the situation worse, having Alistair loom over her as another man straddled her. She wanted to crawl in a hole and die from humiliation.

"Yeah, I'm fine. He was just…. stopping me from walking into a trap. It's ok. Really, Alistair, put the sword away." She glared at Zevran. "OK. Point taken. Thank you. Wanna get off me now?"

"Is that a trick question?" He said with a wink.

Mallory shoved him off her; fairly certain she was so red that her hair paled in color comparison. Zevran chuckled as he hit the dirt and rolled back on his feet, standing gracefully.

"You could have just yelled 'trap!" Alistair declared. "You didn't have to practically assault her."

"True, but where would have been the fun in that? Are you jealous? I can roll around on the ground with you too if you wish? I'll even let you be on top."

"No! Get away from me. You're terrible!" Alistair said aghast. He sheathed his sword and shook his head as the assassin began disarming the trap. Reaching into his belt pouch, he withdrew a set of metal tools of various shapes and sizes. _They look like a cross between dental tools and torture devices_. Mallory observed as she watched him tinker with the trap. _Though some may argue those are one in the same. _

"Ah hah!" He exclaimed he expertly sprung the trap and the jaws brutally snapped shut. "One down! Ten more to go!"

"Ten?!" Mallory peered closer into the grass as Zevran indicated the path before them. Sure enough, several more bear traps littered the ground all well hidden in the hardy weeds that had ravaged the road. She was able to make out the silhouette of a sign staked in the center of the road, but couldn't read what it said.

"Zevran."

"Here I am!" The elf spouted. Mallory rolled her eyes as he all but hopped next to her. "Try and clear this quickly. Please. I'm not sure what's going on, but I'd rather not get waylaid and cornered between both enemies and bear traps."

"As you wish."

Zevran stepped in front of her and picked out nearest trap to disarm. Instead of squatting this time, he knelt over as he began to mess with the arming mechanism. Mallory turned beet red when she noticed that the leather straps that covered his muscular legs weren't quite as concealing when he bent over. The straps fluttered in the light breeze, dangling just below the line of his posterior. Mallory found herself staring at the definition in his thigh as he sprung the trap.

"See something you like, Warden?" He wiggled his rear, causing the straps to sway even more.

"Huh? Uh… no… I .. ummm…" Mallory was at a loss for words as he caught her staring. She blurted out the only thing she could think to say. "Good god, man. Put on some pants!"

"Yes. Please do!" Alistair seconded shielding his eyes.

Zevran just laughed as Mallory turned away from him. He moved to the next trap and began the process of disabling it when his sharp ears picked up a low growl. Looking up, Zevran spotted several pairs of eyes peering back at him through the brush.

"Warden, we appear to have company!" He equipped his swords, abandoning the trap to face the oncoming threat.

Mallory spun around and armed herself as the enemies appeared. They were beautiful in a feral kind of way: with gleaming eyes and straggly coats that ranged from white to various shades of gray. Mallory winced when she noticed their ribs were plainly viable despite the fur. The leader pinned his ears and emitted a snarl from his muzzle. That was all the warning given before the wolf pack converged on the party.

* * *

Mallory kicked the sign in ire and regretted it after the recoil sent a shock of fresh pain up her leg. The bold words done in whitewash proudly proclaimed: BEWARE. TRAPS! WOLVES SEEN IN THE VICINITY.

Mallory looked over the carnage. _No duh! You think! _The carcasses of the pack beset the earth as Alistair and Sten finished skinning them for their pelts. She felt sick. She could kill bandits, thugs, and darkspawn without feeling one iota of guilt, but killing animals even in self-defense left her feeling hollow. She didn't even want to skin them, but common sense trumped her sentimentally and she could not deny the value of the hides: both as protection from the increasing cold and trade value. They were also taking what little meat there was off the starved creatures. The idea of eating a creature she had heard yelp and scream as she broke its bones and smashed its head in was nauseating. She was certain she would still hear their cries of pain while they ate dinner that night.

"Who does this? Who puts up a sign warning about traps and then surrounds it with those traps where no one can see it!?"

She kicked the sign again in frustration. Another wave of pain from her knee, but the sign still stood.

"Do you want me to assassinate the sign, Warden?" Zevran offered. "It seems to have offended you."

"No!" She snapped. "I want you to find the guy that thought it was a brilliant idea to put the sign here and assassinate him."

Zevran chuckled lightly. "During our travels, I shall keep an eye out and end him slowly for your pleasure."

"Good!"

Zevran watched the Warden pace back in forth for a moment. She kept bringing her hand to her mouth and nibbling on her gauntleted finger. Finally, she pulled the glove off and savaged one of her fingernails.

"I can't help but notice you seem a little agitated. Is everything alright?" Zevran inquired.

"Yes.. no… I dunno."

"You… don't know?"

Mallory gestured helplessly at the wolf Sten was carving up. "I know they attacked us, but look at them. It's obvious they were starving. Maybe the darkspawn have corrupted their prey or driven people into their territories. They wouldn't have attacked us unless they were desperate. I understand its kill or be killed, but why do I feel so… so…"

"So bad?" Zevran finished for her as Mallory shook her head in affirmation. "Ah, my dear Warden. It is because of the very same trait that spared me. Compassion."

She snorted in derision. "What place does compassion have in a world where everyone and everything is trying to kill you? It just makes me seem weak."

"Oh? I do no think so."

Mallory looked at him in surprise. "What would you know of compassion? You kill people for a living!?"

"True, but it doesn't mean that I don't empathize with them."

"So..wait. You feel bad for them, but you kill them anyways?"

"Of course. Some may just be misfortunate enough to be at the wrong place at the wrong time or need to be eliminated because of their relation to another. It is regrettable, but necessary. That's not the case most of the time though. Many of the marks I have killed have been murders, rapists, slavers, or corrupted politicians that allowed such travesties to happen. Most of them deserve death. You would agree, no?"

She was about to say no, but then she thought about Alim and the men on the bridge. Hybris. "Yes. Sometimes death is the only way. And sometimes it's far more than they deserve." Her voice was cold and hard, sounding different even in her own ears.

"I see."

"Who was the first person you killed?" she asked changing the subject. Sten and Alistair were nearly done with their task and she was hoping his tale would distract her.

"My first mission I was sent to kill a mage from the Circle of Magi. She was a beautiful woman and I wondered what could such a woman do to warrant her death? Apparently she meddled in politics too frequently and got one someone's bad side. Anyways, I tracked her down and caught up with her as she was fleeing the city in a carriage. When I boarded the carriage and went to kill her, she begged quite enthusiastically for her life."

"Is that supposed a euphuism for something else?"

"If you are asking if we slept together, than yes. But only for about three hours or so."

"Zevran! But... but you were there to kill her. Didn't she try to kill you?"

"Hmmm? Oh.. yes. Three times."

"I-I have no idea what to say to that." She rubbed her temples. "I find it highly ironic that you pride yourself on sexual prowess, yet most of the time you give me a headache."

Zevran laughed. "I have a remedy for that later if you wish. So, continuing on, in the morning she had me quite convinced to go clear things up with the Crows all as a big misunderstanding. As she leaned out of the carriage to give me a farewell kiss, she slipped and fell and hit her head on the step; breaking her neck."

"So… you didn't kill her?"

"Not technically, no. But it was just as well. I found out later, she was planning on taking off and boarding a ship to Tevinter. If that happened, well let's just say I would not be standing before you today. As it was, when I returned to the guild, the master congratulated me on making it look like an accident."

"This story seems to be an example as to why being companionate is a dreadful idea. You felt sorry for that woman and she took advantage of you. Had you not been so lucky, you would have been killed in her stead."

"True. I was not disagreeing that you must be careful to whom you show kindness to, merely that having it does not make you weak. In fact, it makes you stronger. It is all too easy to become calloused and jaded. Take it from the word of an assassin: The more you kill, the easier it becomes. Only the strongest people can still possess compassion and know the value of life even after they have killed."

Mallory stared at him, not quite sure of what to say.

"Lucky for me, these kinds of things happen to me quite frequently. Like meeting a kind, strong, and benevolent mark that spared my life." He said, breaking the silence.

Mallory frowned at him, her nose wrinkling in ire. "Don't say that."

"What? That you are kind? Strong? Beautiful….?"

"That," She said growing increasingly irate. "Don't say that because you know it's not true."

"That you are beautiful? I say so because you are. Not in the traditional sense, but-"

"Anddd .. you ruined it." She said walking away to rejoin Alistair and Sten.

Zevran watched her go, completely confused and frustrated. He didn't understand. He had thought they were having a moment, and then she just shut down and walked away. He showered her with compliments and she rebuffed him and even seemed insulted. What was with this woman?

"Braska!" he mumbled under his breath. It was Zevran's turn to kick the sign.

* * *

Mallory stirred her wolf meet stew, trying not to wretch as little chucks of meat bobbed on the surface. A lover of steak, she had never given much thought to vegetarianism, but this experience was certainly enlightening. She could still she the wolf's yellow eyes as she had crushed it beneath her hammer. Its final cry of anguish had torn at her heart in a way she could never have imagined. And here she was, about to eat it. _It's protein, Mallory. Protein. Energy. Same thing you ate on Earth, just you didn't have to kill it yourself. Well, that and it's canine. No! It's chicken! Yes, chicken! Just imagine it came in a pretty package from a supermarket. Eat it! You can't fight the darkspawn if you're weak from hunger. _And she was hungry. Her stomach growled in anticipation as she put the spoon down and brought the bowl to her lips. She chugged the stew as quick as she could, only stopping to chew when she had to. The meat was stringy and tough, predators having more muscles than prey, and she shuddered as a piece lodged itself in her back molar. Finally, she made it through the bowl, gasping as she came up for air.

"Maker's breath, Mallory! We're not going to take it away from you. I'll say one thing. You sure can eat like a Warden." Alistair said around a spoonful of his stew.

"Oh, you must be hungry. Have some more." Leliana went to ladle Mallory another bowl of the stew.

_Oh dear god, no! _"No! I mean no, thank you. Sten and I are going to train and I don't want to be overly full." She clasped the bowl to her chest. "It was great, thanks! I'll just go wash this in the stream. I need to bathe anyways. Don't wait up!"

She darted into the woods before anyone could further comment. She followed the sound of trickling water until she came to the bank of the stream. The river rocks gleamed dully in the moonlight as she knelt and washed her dish out. The water was freezing and numbed her fingers to the bone. _Yea! Sponge bath again! What I wouldn't give for that big copper basin in Redcliffe Castle. _Mallory hummed quietly to herself as she scrubbed stopping when she heard a noise to her west. With great effort, she stood, exchanging her bowl for her hammer as the sounds drew closer.

"Zevran, if that's you this isn't funny!" _And I just said the classic horror movie line that gets the non-virgin killed. Great job, Mal!_

Too her surprise, a voice called out in return. A perfectly normal, if not somewhat bewildered voice. "Hello? I'm sorry, I seem to be lost, I'm looking for…"

A young man exited the brush, picking leaves out his long hair. He was rather scrawny, wearing the clothing of a merchant with sandy blonde hair and common features. He broke into a friendly smile as he saw her, and walked toward her, hand extended.

"Warden!" he finished. "I'm looking for the Wardens! Andraste's dimpled butt cheeks, I can't believe I finally found you! My name is Levi. Levi Dryden and-"

Suddenly a blade flashed at Levi's throat and the man stiffened and fell silent. Zevran's face appeared behind him as the assassin materialized from the dark. Mallory could see the man gulp as Zevran's dagger pressed against his Adams apple.

"Think very carefully about the next words that come from your mouth, friend," Zevran said. "They could be your last."

Levi began to shake and just uttered a bunch of gibberish. "K-k-k-keep… Dryden… W-warden… S-soldier's P-p-p-peak."

"Zevran? What are you doing?"

"Protecting you! He could be another assassin sent by Loghain. How else could he have found us?"

"Really? Do assassins typically wet themselves when held by knifepoint?

"No. Why do you-? Oh." Zevran grimaced in disgust and let the poor man go.

Levi laughed nervously and edged away from the assassin, rubbing his throat. "Well. That was something I hope to never have to repeat again."

"You're in the wrong place, if that's your wish." Mallory replied, putting her maul away. "Nearly getting your throat cut is a daily experience for us. You said you were looking for the Wardens? Why?"

"I knew you were a Warden! The Bann from Redcliffe told me you were heading this way. I-it's a long story. I hate to be a bother, but would you mind if a sat near the fire? It suddenly got really chilly out here." He gestured abashedly to his soiled pants.

Mallory couldn't help but smile. She picked up her bowl from the ground and pointed to the campsite. "Sure thing, Levi. Perhaps we have an extra set of pants lying around you can borrow. I'd order Zevran to give you a pair of his, since he's the cause of this incident, but apparently he doesn't own any. No worries, I'm sure one of the group has something you can use. This way."

Zevran joined her at her side as she led Levi back to camp. The firelight acted as a beacon as they trudged through the dark shadows of the woods.

"Soooo… you thought he was an assassin, did you?" She asked smugly.

"One can never be too careful, Warden. You are a wanted woman."

"Well… thank you. For looking out for me. It was…. nice of you."

"That's what I'm here for, Warden. To watch your backside." The way he said it left little doubt in her mind, which backside he was referring to.

She let the comment slide for the moment, setting him up for something far better. "That's some great hearing you have, Zevran. I mean, to hear Levi coming through the woods all the way from the campsite and come and check on me. Impressive."

"Well.. yes. I am that."

"You know, elven ears have always fascinated me. There so long and pointy. I've never touched one before." She smiled sweetly and batted her eyes, using her natural ability to blush at the slightest provocation to her advantage. "Would you.. I mean.. Would it be too bold of me to ask... if I could?"

"Here? Now? With company?" Zevran asked surprised. He laughed mischievously. "I knew that shy façade was nothing more than an act. Oh, you're a naughty little minx aren't you? Go ahead."

He leaned in and Mallory reached up and seized him roughly by the ear, dragging his face close to hers.

"How much of a fool do you take me for!? You were SPYING on me! If I catch you doing it again, elf, I'll claim this ear as my trophy! Do you hear me?" She hissed.

"Ooohhh! I had no idea you liked it rough, Warden. A little harder if you please."

With a revolted noise, she released his ear and forged her way back to camp, leaving the two men behind. Zevran massaged his ear and smiled.

"Well, then, I guess I'll just have to make sure you don't catch me." Zevran said to himself.

"What was that all about?" Levi asked.

"A woman's gratitude." Zevran said as he followed, leaving Levi a few steps behind, scratching his head in confusion.

"So, that's about it. I was hoping you'd be interested in reclaiming Soldier's Peak and clearing my family name." Levi shifted uncomfortably in the extra pair of Alistair's night pants, pulling them up as they slid down for the umpteenth time since they were about five sizes too big for him.

Mallory sat with rapt attention on the edge of her seat as he finished his tale. _A Grey Warden fort. Imagine that! We can have a home base and fortification against the darkspawn. Levi said he's a trader, maybe we can even get a trade route going and stock up on essentials. It's bound to have all kinds of Gray Warden secrets. I bet it has secret passages! Adventure! Maybe we can even find some info on the Joining! If we can, then we can replenish our ranks and we won't be alone in this fight! _Her head was reeling from all the possibilities.

"It's on the way to Denerim. Alistair? What do you think? Maybe we can find some info on the Joining ritual? It certainly couldn't hurt our cause to have a home base and be able to put down some roots."

"Agreed. Since it's on the way to Denerim anyways, we should check it out." Alistair said, nodding his head. "Centuries have passed since any Grey Wardens have set foot inside it. Duncan told me about it. He said this is why Wardens must stay politically neutral at all times so we don't repeat the mistakes of the past. Sophia Dryden's opposition of Ferelden's ruler is what caused our expulsion from this country in the first place. He told me, after we took care of the Blight, that maybe we could try to reinstate the fort and use it as a recruitment center. He.. He'll never get a chance to do that now, and I think it would be a great way to honor his memory."

Mallory patted Alistair on the knee since he seemed so sad about Duncan. Well, more like clanked since they were both still wearing armor, but the templar smiled nonetheless.

"Levi." Mallory said. "You are welcome to travel with us until we get to the Peak. I think Bodhan has an extra tent he can spare. You'll ride with him tomorrow. Until, then, it's late and I suggest you get some sleep. I have the second shift of watch, so if you will excuse me, I've got to turn in early."

She bade goodnight to the party and entered her tent. Since she was sleeping in her armor per Sten's instructions, all she had to do was crawl under her furs and try to fall asleep. She was adapting, and the armor seemed more like a second skin to the point she sometimes forgot she was wearing it. Placing her maul by her side, the Warden drifted off to sleep dreamed of horrors.

* * *

_Dig! Dig! Dig! Dig! It was the only thought that circulated her mind as her fingers bit into rock and earth, staining them black with her blood. Her nails and fingertips had been worn to bloody stubs but she felt no pain in her relentless assault on the earth. She could hear it. The song. Just behind this rock. It called to her and filled her mind with a sweet symphony of destruction. The whispered voice in her mind, urged her on, even as one of her fingers broke. Others joined her in the search. They could hear the call too and they worked to its rhythm. The steady beating of His heart behind the stone. Boom. It reverberated throughout the Deep Roads and echoed in their minds. Boom. It was reflected in their footsteps as they prowled the depths, endlessly searching. Boom. It was in the sound of falling stone that crushed the others as wall partially caved in. There. She put her hands on the rock and felt it pulse with life. She pulled with all her strength as it came tumbling down reveling her prize. Mallory fell to her knees and screamed in triumph as the yellow eye opened, its pupil dilating to a narrow slit in the torch light, and the Old One awoke to her cry._

* * *

Mallory awoke with a startled gasp. her head hurt and her mouth was dry, but try as she might she couldn't recall what she dreamed of. She just knew it scared her. Blinking in the darkness of her tent, she sat up suddenly aware of something strange. _My side. It doesn't hurt. _She had been laying on the side that sported the black mark. She had been avoiding that for some time since even her armor brushing against it caused pain, but she must have rolled over in her sleep. _Maybe it healed? _

Mallory unbuckled her breastplate and cast it to the ground. She pulled back her tent flap just enough for a thin stream of firelight to enter the tent. As Mallory positioned herself where she could examine the mark, she saw her assessment was very very wrong. It had spread and now tendrils of black were feathering across her stomach and the curve of her breast like a Rorschach test. She ran her fingers over the flesh.. and felt nothing. Nothing at all. No sensation. No pressure. Not even the heat from her fingertips. The skin was cool and clammy. _My god... its like...like the flesh of the dead. _

"Mallory?" Alistair voice through the tent startled her as she grabbed a pelt and covered her waist. Always the gentleman, Alistair never touched her tent when she was inside, fearing she may be indecent.

"Yeah?" She called out hesitantly.

"Time for our shift. You ready?" She heard him yawn through the course fabric as his shadow stretched when he moved in front of the fire.

"Um.. Yes. Yeah. Be right there." She scrambled for her armor. As she was buckling it on, she tried to control her fear over what was happening to her body. She still didn't know what it was, but all signs pointed to something very unpleasant in her future.


	16. Games

Chapter 16

Games

Zevran dabbed oil on his boot and rubbed vigorously with his polishing cloth. He wiggled his toes in the crisp air enjoying the cool breeze that wafted down from the mountains. With his boot sheathed over his left hand, he held it up to the morning light and frowned. The elfroot stain from the mercenary's spit wad stubbornly refused to come off. It added to the character of the boot along with every scuff, dent, and blemish he had collected over the years he had owned them, but he'd rather it wasn't present.

"I really should have bought those boots." He lamented. He could still see them in his memory, taunting him from their place in the Antivan leather works window. The leather had been supple and dyed a deep brown with a hand stamped border on the cuffs. They word he would have used to describe them was sexy. They were a sexy sexy pair of boots. He had to have them. He had told himself just one more mission and he would have enough gold to buy them. Of course that was before Rinna… and before his failed suicide mission. He felt the familiar pang of sorrow echo in his heart whenever he thought of her name. Yes, he had a lot of regrets, missing the opportunity to purchase a pair of boots being the least among them.

He put his boot down and reached for the other one as he picked up the sound of footsteps approaching. Appearing enamored with his polishing, Zevran was able to tell the relative distance, size, and weight of the person approaching and if they posed a threat with a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. He was not surprised at all when Alistair's broad shouldered shadow fell over him as the templar glowered down at him.

"Would you mind moving?" He said not even bothering to look up. "You're in my light. Or at the very least, turn around so I can have the greatest view of your best side. "

Alistair didn't budge and leveled an accusing finger Zevran's way. "Mallory says you were peeping on her last night while she was about to bathe."

"Did she now?" He drawled in annoyance. He was quite sure what annoyed him: the fact that Alistair was interrogating him about it or the fact that Mallory had confided in the templar. "I wasn't peeping; I was making sure she was safe by keeping watch. There may be other assassins looking for her."

"But she was about to bathe! You know.. in the n-nude."

"I should think so! It would be difficult for her to properly cleanse herself otherwise." He gave the templar a wink and went back to polishing his boot.

"How can even justify that?"

"What you should be asking, is how can you not?" He replied as he continued to shine his left boot. "It's your job to keep her safe, just as it is mine. I do owe her my life. The proximity of clothing to her body has nothing to do with it. I, sir, am a professional."

He huffed with feigned indignity and paused a moment to let it sink in, before adding. "Besides, seeing her naked is just a perk of the job."

"She's our leader!"

"All the more reason she should be protected. She's completely vulnerable without her armor, so it's the perfect time for an assassin to strike. I should know. It is a hard job, but one I am willing to do to ensure her safety. If it's any consolation, I am just a professional when I keep watch over you when you bathe."

"How's that any consul- Wait.. What!?"

"There's nothing to be ashamed of. You have an exquisitely chiseled physique. You should be proud and show it off more often. I know I enjoy it."

"Y-you .. y-you stay away from me.. and her, you perverted elf."

"Oh? Or what? You'll give me another stern finger wagging?" Zevran put down his boot and returned the templar's stare. He was done playing games now and Alistair was getting on his nerves. "Tell me, Alistair. Did she ask you to come over here and "warn" me to stay away from her?"

"N-no! But I'm her friend, and I won't have you harassing her!" Alistair replied, with a fleeting look of guilt.

"Ahhhh. And I wonder if you realize just how much of a friend you are to her?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing much. I just find it really interesting that you're the one telling me to stay away and not her. Perhaps you should examine this zone of friendship you two have? You may be surprised at where exactly you stand."

"Look, if you hurt her, Maker help me I'll-"

"I have no intention of causing her any harm." Zevran replied curtly, cutting him off. "I gave her my oath and I am a man of my word."

"Yeah. And a murdered and philanderer and more. The list goes on and on. Funny how honorable doesn't fit anywhere in there."

"I happened to be a very loyal person. Besides, that is for her to decide, not you. She has chosen to trust me. As you said, she is our leader, so even if you don't have confidence in me, you should have faith in her. Especially, if she is your friend as you claim."

Alistair pointed his finger at the assassin's chest and opened his mouth to say something else, but suddenly stopped. He processed what Zevran had said and had to agree with his assessment, though he didn't like it. "Fine! But I'm watching you!"

Alistair turned on his heel and stormed back to the camp. Zevran watched him go and then resumed shining his boots.

"As I am you, my friend." Zevran muttered.

* * *

Hybris peered out of his host's eyes at the cowering mage before him. Sobbing uncontrollably, the mage was surrounded by the corpses of his friends as well as a few templars that dared to defy him. They had blockaded one of the halls leading to the mage's quarters in a desperate attempt to buy the others some time. Some children and a few senior mages had escaped into another hall, but Hybris' abominations had corralled the First Enchanter and others on the topmost floor and were awaiting his instructions. He would deal with them shortly, but first…

Hybris commanded Uldred's arms to pick up the whimpering and defeated mage. With strength beyond that of a human, the demon lifted the battered mage up by his throat. The cruel smirk on Uldred's face reflected Hyris own malevolent grin under his host's skin.

"Uldred! P-p-please!" The man sniveled.

"Uldred is no more!" Hybris growled from his host's lips. "There is only Hybris!"

The reckless mage had thought to subjugate Hybris when he had summoned him from the Fade. In his relentless pursuit of Forsaken, he had put every blood mage under his thrall to the task of finding her. Though he had sent countless minions to search for her throughout Thaedes, so far none had returned successful. It was only by chance he had stumbled upon the unrest within the Circle. When Uldred sundered the Veil, Hybris had been scanning for her using his crystals. The tear in the Veil was so great; it was like a beacon to the demon that sent a ripple of discord throughout the Fade. It had only taken a moment to locate the source and breach the Veil. Stepping through the tear, he had decided to claim the mage and take matters into his own claws. He would find the witch himself and deal with her personally. Hybris still savored the taste of the Uldred's horror and disbelief as he had easily dominated his will, forcing his essence into the mage's body. Now, this body was his to command, as was the hordes of minor demons and abominations that swarmed the Circle tower, turning those who submitted and killing those that resisted.

"Do you accept the gift I offer you?" Uldred's voice sounded serene in Hybris' borrowed ears; full of promised power and blind acceptance. He squeezed the mage a bit as a friendly reminder as to what would happen to him if he refused his generous offer. The man's eyes rolled back in his head as he struggled for breath.

"No!" A voice echoed down the hall. "Mikel, don't do it! I have the Litany of Adralla! Just hold on!"

Hybris/Uldred snarled at the intruder. Some lone mage that had slipped through his defenses had entered the hall and was fumbling with a scroll. Reaching out his free hand, Hybris summoned rage demons to silence the interruption. Fiery shapes erupted from the floor scrambling to rend the intruding mage into pieces. The mage's hands were shaking so violently in terror he almost ripped the ancient parchment in his hands as he backed down the hall, trying to read.

"O-our b-b-b-b-bless-ed Andraste… B-b-bride of the M-" The mage stammered, unable to control his body's natural response to fear and anxiety, stumbling over the words that could have disrupted Hybris's attempt at mind control. The rage demons glided across the floor, closing in impossibly fast and leaving trails of molten rock in their wake. Hybris chortled at his feeble attempt and focused on the other mage in his clutches. Seeping into the man's mind like a cold fog, Hybris dominated Mikel and took him over.

"Niall!" The doomed mage cried out as he turned, his form twisting grotesquely into that of an abomination.

"I'm sorry.. Maker. I'm so sorry." Niall sobbed as his friend transformed. The nearest rage demon swiped at him with extended claws as Niall fled upstairs toward the second floor.

Laughing maniacally, Hybris released his newest recruit and gave him orders. "A few mages escaped down that hall including children. Kill the older ones only if you must but bring the young ones to me. I have use for them."

The abomination bowed to Hybris and slithered down the hall as his master commanded. Waving his hand in the air, Uldred/Hybris cast a minor spell: summoning one of his yellow crystals to hover in front of him. The surface of the mirror shimmered and distorted before conjuring the image of a sloth demon. Its face appeared to be sliding listlessly off it skull, where the flesh of the eyes and mouth merged together like wax from a slow burning candle. The creature sighed languidly at the disturbance, its strange voice bubbling through the sealed mouth like molasses.

"Must…. you….. bother…. me?" The sloth demon unhurriedly stated. It sighed again. "I…was…. resting."

"Torpid," Hybris growled. "Do not forget you are permitted here by my graces. I have a task for you."

Torpid grumbled and gave another long languid sigh. "Your…tasks….involve.. so.. much..effort. Very well. What… is..your…will?"

"There's a mage headed your way. He has the Litany of Adralla. It's the only thing that has the power to stop our mind domination spells. See to it he is detained and doesn't reach the First Enchanter."

"It… shall.. be..done."

Without waiting for further acknowledgment, Hybris made a dismissive motion and the sloth demon dropped from view. The crystal still bobbed in the air as he gazed at it in contemplation.

"Show me, Forsaken." He ordered the crystal. The gem shimmered a moment and brought up a faint image but it was quickly overwhelmed with darkness. Like ink dropped into water, the blackness spread out across the crystal in long tendrils, obscuring any reflection. The jewel began to tremor as the dark spread until it covered it entirely. Then the crystal shattered sending onyx shrapnel flying throughout the hall. Hybris grunted. It was the same thing every time he sought her. What did it mean? It seemed as if something was shielding her from his eyes. He had yet to hear from Aphrodisia or any of the other slaves he had searching for her and he was becoming impatient.

_All things in time. _He reminded himself._ I'll not let this one minor setback spoil this moment. She couldn't have gone far. In the mean time, I should enjoy the small things. This little detour will leave me plenty of thralls to continue my search. _Uldred/Hybris walked amongst the fallen with his hands clasped behind his back, enjoying the destruction he had wrought. Blood painted the walls, floors, even the ceiling a variety of pleasing shades of red. Entrails hung from some of the torches lining the walls, creating dreadful aesthetic chandeliers that cast dripping shadows along the hall. It was beautiful. All it needed was one thing and it would be perfect. Entering the apprentice's quarters, he smiled at the surviving mages that huddled towards the back of the room, causing them to scramble closer to the wall in a desperate attempt to distance themselves. The abominations that had held them there parted before him. They closed ranks as he stood in front of the mages, savoring the sounds they made while they whimpered like small animals. He gave them a moment to hope they would live before he changed into his natural form. Then the screaming began: echoing down the halls in numerous different pitches. Now it was perfect.

* * *

It was supposed to be a quick stop at the Orzammar surface trade center to unload some valuables they had collected. Between all the wolf pelts and looted armor bits, they were starting to haul around a bunch of nonessentials and it was slowing them down. The plan was simple: pick through the choice pieces and sell or trade the rest to the surface dwarves with the exception of some of the furs. Those had come in handy to keep off the snow that fell in earnest now, coating everything in white powder that froze Mallory to the bone since she had little experience with it. Of course, even the best laid plans could go awry. Like now. Had someone told Mallory that a group of mercenaries were lying in wait on the road up to Orzammar and she would have to fight them in six inches of ankle deep snow she would have said forget that and moved on. Sadly, no one was there to inform her and her only notice was a hearty "Death to the Wardens!" battle cry as they launched themselves at the party.

"Friends of yours?" Mallory asked Zevran as she equipped her maul and prepared for the oncoming attack.

Zevran scoffed, twirling his twin blades in his hands. "Most certainly not! Crows do not oafishly scream out their attacks."

"Isn't that what you did when you attacked me?" Mallory countered, engaging the nearest threat. She shouted over the clanging steel as Alistair and Sten joined in the fray. "I distinctly remember a certain elf yelling 'The Gray warden dies here' right before he attacked." She mimicked his Antivan accent to further mock him.

"Yes," Zevran agreed, finishing off a bearded assailant, "but, I did it with style."

Mallory snorted in laughter as she knocked her attacker aside. The move was automatic, gleaned from Sten's brutal lessons and now allowed her the ability to act on instinct without over thinking every move. _Hey! _She realized. _I can banter and fight at the same time now without get eviscerated! Yea progress! _

"Shall we compete for points?" Zevran asked as he downed another.

""No." Mallory shouted, making a beeline for the mage. "Not enough of a challenge. I'd beat you hands down!"

"Ooh. I love it when you're feisty!"

Mallory refrained from rolling her eyes, not wanting to lose sight of her enemy as she swung at the mage. The mage flung her hands wide, summoning the frigid winds of a blizzard. It might have been the non magical snow that the spell picked up, but Mallory could swear she felt a bit of the chill as the flurries spun dizzily around her. _The cold may not affect me, but I can't see! _Using her arm to shield her eyes, Mallory plowed through the wall of white that blinded her as she sought out the spell caster. _There! _The telltale spark of magic briefly lit up the snow to her right. Putting all her weight behind the blow, Mallory swung the maul with its full range. She was rewarded with a grunt as her weapon came in contact with the casting mage and broke his concentration as well as his ribs.

The spell faltered and fizzled out, the snow storm ceasing immediately as the mage searched his robes for a healing potion. He triumphantly pulled a health potion out of the folds of his robes as Mallory slammed into him. She shouldered him in the sternum and followed up with another rib cracking blow to his midsection. Dropping the potion, the mage doubled over was met with an upper cut by her maul. With a choking cry, he fell backwards and gasped his last breath as Mallory saw her party was victorious.

"Do not rush the enemy, khadan, until you improve your footwork." Sten reproached. "Your limited mobility means that you are unable to retreat from their range and leaves you open for a counter attack."

"But it was a mage." Mallory argued. "What's he gonna do? Hit me with his staff?"

"I see you have already forgotten what the last mage that got too close was capable of."

Mallory blanched, thinking of the monstrosity Alim had become and the damage he dealt with his claws. "Dually noted. I'm guessing tonight I'll have extra footwork exercises?"

"And to think I once questioned your intelligence and capabilities as leader."

"Ha ha ha. Laugh it up, Qunari." Mallory shouted back to him as they trudged up the snow laden path. "One of these days, you'll be flat on your back, with me looking down on you."

"Only if I finally manage to knock myself unconscious from all the forehead smacking I seem to do in your presence."

Alistair tried to hide his snicker as Zevran laughed outright while Mallory turned red.

"Ouch." Zevran chimed in. "You sure you're not a mage, my friend? That comment burned more than an Inferno spell."

"I'm just getting warmed up." He said with a straight face and Mallory lost it: her laughter echoing throughout the Frostbacks.

* * *

"Fifty. Fifty one… and done!" Mallory grinned as she counted the silver. They had sold off all of their useless gear and came out a head one full gold sovereign fifty one silver and eight coppers. _Awesome. Maybe I can finally afford a decent set of armor. _She thought looking over her tattered scale mail. It was dented and ill-fitting and falling apart in some places due to the beating Sten was giving her on a nightly basis. She wasn't sure how much further protection it would offer, or if her flippant jokes about ending up naked in the middle of a battle field were slightly prophetic.

_Ok. I need a new breast plate and maybe some boots. _She thought as she poked around the vendor stalls. Some of the pieces were lovely: hand crafted with precision and pride though she seriously doubted dwarven armor would fit her. _Pity. They look really sturdy. _Not giving up the hunt, she went from stall to stall, checking their wares.

There was a mushroom dealer that sold fungus the size of her head. It pulsated gently and seemed to glow a faint green. Mallory curled her lip in disgust. _Gross. I'll pass. _Exploring the stalls lead to other interesting discoveries: a dwarf with an apparent obsession with cogs, and one that had rocks for sale in his inventory from "the deepest part of the Deep Roads" imbued with magical properties that could make her significant other "last like a bronco." She scoffed at the dwarf. He obviously believed her an ignorant surface dweller to think she'd buy that load of crap. She finally came to a merchant that sold human sized armor and she picked up a shield, admiring the craftsmanship. _Alistair's shield is looking a little worse for wear, so maybe we can replace that and Sten… Sten.. what is Sten doing?_

Catching the giant's reflection in the shield, Mallory blinked in puzzlement as she witnessed him mull over some painting that was tucked in the corner of a stall. He stood with his hand on his chin, examining the picture as if he was an art critic. Mallory had a mental image of him dressed like a hipster; complete the oversized black glasses and beret with glass red wine held aloft in his free hand. Smiling at the image, she put down the shield and sauntered over to the warrior.

"Whatcha looking at?" She asked. "A painting?"

"I see your observation skills are still in no need of improvement." He supplied dryly.

Mallory ignored the comment and glanced over the picture. The gilded frame displayed a human girl in a simple gown. The snowy wind cast her hair around her face, obscuring it as she tossed handfuls of corn to a few geese. It was artfully done in what appeared to be oil paints in a renaissance style comparable to Rembrandt.

"It's pretty." She said when he didn't comment any further. "I didn't know you liked art."

"I suspect there are a great many things you don't know about me."

"Not for lack of trying. It's not my fault you're as stubborn as a mule." She said looking for a price tag. When she couldn't locate one, she flagged down the merchant. "How much for this painting?"

"What are you doing?" Sten asked.

Mallory ignored him as she prepared to haggle.

"Eighteen silvers for this beauty." The dwarf replied.

Mallory snorted. "Eighteen silvers for this travesty? My dog could paint better. Eight silvers and you're lucky I'm offering that."

"You surfacers must have no sense of money. I've got a family to feed. Fifteen is perfectly reasonable."

"Hah! Reasonable you say? How about this? Eleven silver and you make my very large friend here happy." She pointed her thumb towards Sten. The dwarf gulped as he took in the Qunari's size: at least three times his own. "You do want to make him happy, don't you?"

"Y-you said eleven? Eleven sounds fair." The dwarf said a bit too hurriedly. "P-perfectly fine, in fact. It's just collecting dust here anyways."

Mallory smiled as she handed over the silver. _Guess all those years of handling escalated credit card calls were good for something. At least I know how to haggle and can talk my way out of most situations. Too bad I can't fight all my battles with my tongue._

"Here you go." She said, handing Sten the painting. "You can hang it on a tree when we get to camp. Like a headboard."

Sten took the painting without expression. "This is unexpected. I… thank you."

"You're welcome. Though, I never thought I give a gift to some who beats the ever-loving tar out of me each night. Maybe I'm a closet masochist?"

"What does a wardrobe have to do with anything? Or tar? Is this a riddle?"

"I- Never mind. Just ignore me."

"An order I can easily follow." Sten said as Mallory returned to browsing the armor.

* * *

"This is it. Soldier's Peak." Levi Dryden said with gusto as he pointed to the impressive battlements that towered above them. _It's so tall! That tower alone has got to be at least 40 feet high. _Mallory gapped in awe at the fort. True, it had seen better days, but the structure was sound and easily defensible. Mallory was glad she had found a decent pair of boots. Here in the mountains, the snow was piled shin high and hard to walk through. Her toes may have frozen off if she hadn't invested in a solid pair of Veridium boots. _I wish I had found a fitting chest piece. _She thought as the party trudged uphill through the snow banks. _I'm freezing! I'm from south Florida! I don't know how to deal with snow!_

Her thoughts scattered as she noticed some object sticking out of a snow mound. White as the snow itself, the skeletal arm reached towards the unforgiving sky with its fingers grasping a weathered bow. Bits of tattered cloth still clung to the arm, flapping in the wind while the falling snow added to the mound, further obscuring the rest of the body from view. Mallory frowned as they drew near, seeing other remains scattered among the hold's stair case.

"Levi, I thought you said this place was abandoned for years?"

The merchant hugged his chest, shivering in the cold. "It's supposed to be. Of course, I haven't exactly been up here to see for myself. Not too handy with a sword."

"Probably bandit infighting." Alistair guessed. "Maybe they stumbled across the fort and fought over something?"

"I do not think so." Zevran replied, unsheathing his weapons. "There is something in the air here. Something I know well. Death."

"Well- and this is just a random thought- perhaps it's all the dead bodies surrounding us? Kinda hard not to think of death with all the dead lying about." Alistair snapped.

Mallory raised an eyebrow at the templar's tone. _What's his problem? He's not normally so cranky. Still… I can't deny what Zevran is saying. _There was something unsettling about this place. She couldn't tell if it was the solitude, the dead bodies, or the foreboding old fort, but something here that made her hair stand on end. She followed Zevran's instincts and drew her weapon. Without warning, the snow bank erupted as one of the skeletons sprung to life. The party huddled back to back as all around them the bones of the long dead came to life and attacked.

"How is this possible?" She yelled as she whacked one of the archers. The bones tumbled to the ground under the crushing blow of her hammer. "Does anyone see a mage?"

"Not a one." Zevran teased. "Though you have-"

"Zevran! I swear if you say some cheesy line like 'cast a spell on me' I WILL beat you within an inch of your life."

The rogue just chuckled as he slashed through another foe. "Anyone tell you how sexy you are when you threaten bodily harm? That's two down by the way."

"I told you I'm not playing."

"Yes, I understand. I would not to be beaten by such a handsome elf as myself either. Unless of course I was the prize. Hmmm.. tempting thought."

"Fine! You wanna play, lets play. If I win, you have to go an entire day without making sexual advances on anyone." Mallory shouted as she dodged a blow. "No comments, flirting, euphemisms, double entendres, nothing like that. For one whole day."

"Ooooh, I challenge! I accept! And if I win, I get a kiss." He shouted as he kicked the enemy in the leg, knocking its boney legs out from underneath it.

Mallory contemplated it for a moment, deciding that is was worth the risk if she got peace for one day.

"Done! But I'm still ahead of you from last battle by one." Mallory countered as she knocked another skeleton down. "You have to catch up!"

"Oh no, my dear Warden. Each battle begins anew. I am in the lead. "

"What?!" Mallory replied in shock as she took out another dead. "I never agreed to these terms. You're changing the rules, you cheater!"

"Ah, but if I recall," Zev smoothly replied, never missing a beat as he backstabbed yet another undead. "You said it wasn't enough of a challenge. I thought you wouldn't mind if I upped the anti to make sure we are even. That's three by the way."

"Fine!" She shouted as she finished another one. "That's three for me too! We're even! Last one wins!"

They both spotted the final skeleton and dashed for it: eager to be the one to claim the final defeat and secure their victory. The combatants skidded to a halt as Sten cleaved the skeleton in half with Asala, sending bones flying into the air. Mallory and Zevran stared at the giant in silent disbelief as the he sheathed his sword.

"B-but that was the last one. How are we going to decide who won?" Mallory pouted.

"You are silent. I won." Sten replied as he went to the bottom stairs and awaited them.

Zevran looked to Mallory and shrugged. "I can't argue with that."

"Would you want to?" Mallory grumbled.

"Not on your life, Warden. Or mine for that matter." He jested as they joined up with the Qunari. "I guess I'll just have to get my kiss later."

"Well, they say all good things are worth waiting for." She paused and waited for him to smile before she sighed and looked as disappointed as she could. "And I was really looking forward to that day of silence."

"Silence? You said I just couldn't make advances on anyone, not that I couldn't speak."

"Exactly." She said as she ascended the stairs. "With those options taken away from you, I suspect you won't have much else to say."

Zevran chuckled as he followed her up the stairs. "You are a cold, cruel woman, Warden. I must say, I like it."

"I suspect if I dressed up an ox in a gown, you'd fancy it." Alistair commented in irritation.

"Only if it was a pretty gown." Zevran quipped, never missing a beat as they gathered near the tower entrance. "I do have some standards."

Despite herself, Mallory smiled as she pushed open the door and the party entered the tower.

* * *

"No! Please no!" The templar screamed as Hybris separated his arms from his body. The man gurgled as his blood poured onto the floor. Hybris frowned as his armless body flopped around like a dead fish. Finally, when he could take no more of the templar's wretched mewling, he stomped on his skull, caving it in and ending the bothersome noise.

"Pathetic." He said to himself. So far, no one had shown the slightest possibility of renewing his collection. They were all sniveling weak creatures, with no spark, no flavor. It was always the same thing. "No! Please don't kill me! I beg of you!" Hybris growled. They were unworthy: nothing more than fodder in his never-ending search for the perfect work of art. All but one. There was a templar upstairs that showed promise. He was filled with righteous fury and was pure. Not that righteous fury was uncommon in templars, but this one felt it strongly and it could fester into hate for all mages if he was groomed properly. The corruption of one so pure was something demons took special delight in. He had so far resisted his desire demon's attempts at seduction, further adding to his allure. Hybris had him separated from the rest and place in a holding spell for later. At the moment, he was still building his ranks but his temper kept getting the best of him, resulting in a few incidents like the armless templar.

"I see you've been keeping busy." Came a sultry voice behind him. "The Veil here is so badly torn, I doubt the mortals will ever be able to seal the tears completely."

Hybris/Uldred sneered at the sound, turning to face its owner: Aphrodisia.

"You have been absent far too long." He rumbled.

"I have been searching, as you ordered me to." She replied as she drifted near him.

"And tending to your own interests, no doubt."

She smiled sweetly at him. "As I see you have been. Yes, I have… acquired a new body. A very important one. Conner Guerrin, the son of the Arl of Redcliffe."

"I care not of your conquests." He snarled threateningly. "You've wasted enough of my time."

"I saw no need to return to you until I had located her."

"You have found her then? Where is she?"

"I said I located her, not that I know where she is right now."

He shifted into his natural form and lumbered toward her, trailing bloody footprints across the marble floor. She didn't resist when he grabbed her slender throat and brought her face inches from his own. Instead, she laughed as he dug his claws into her purple skin, her eyes alight with pleasure.

"Do not play games with me, bitch. You exist only because I allow it."

"Games? But I have so enjoyed our playtime in the past. You seem out of sorts, Hybris. Is the physical realm not to your liking?" Her lilac pupils deepened in color as she toyed with him. He did not respond, save tightening his grasp and narrowing his eyes. She swished her tail in delight, knowing that she was annoying him. "I may not know where she is, but I do know where she is going."

"Where?" He bellowed, the force of his breath nearly extinguishing her flaming hair. He squeezed harder.

"Kill me now and you will never know. More importantly, you will never find out why she is hidden from you."

Hybris loosened his hold, allowing the desire demon to break free of his grasp. He watched her with fiery eyes as she traced her fingers over her collar bone, smearing some of the dark blood his claws and drawn and licked it off her fingertips. She smiled at the taste, savoring the bloodlust in Hybris's eyes.

"Tell me what you know." He stated quietly. Deadly.

And, so she did.


	17. Lies

**AN: Sorry for the delay. Life got crazy. Short chapter to tide you over. Side note, anyone notice that Sophia talks like a hanar from Mass Effect? Oh, Bioware. I see what you did there. **

Chapter 17

Lies

The ghostly figures floated across the floor, re-enacting a battle long passed. Mallory watched with rapt attention as the wraithlike figures of the Wardens shouted orders and prepared for the siege, their voices resounding off the stone walls in hollow echoes. Just as quickly as they had appeared, the apparitions dissolved into smoke once they completed their drama, leaving the party speechless. Mallory stood in shock, the only sound the occasional shuffle of an armored foot upon stone as she tried to digest what she had just witnessed.

"Well, that was odd." Alistair stated, breaking the silence.

"Yeah. Odd is certainly a word for it." Mallory agreed. "Talk about ghosts of the past. Anyone have any idea what the hell just happened?" When no one responded with anything other than shrugs or head shakes, Mallory wandered towards the large sheet of parchment hung on the wall that had caught her eye earlier. Weathered and yellowing, with bits peeling from the wall, the notice was barely legible as she struggled to make out the words.

_-ere lists t- n-mes of the Wardens that -ght King Arland's tyranny and died -or it._

Mallory scanned the list in confusion seeing over thirty names on the list, including Sophia Dryden.

"I thought Wardens were forbidden from interfering in politics?" She said to no one in particular. "According to this they deified the King in some way."

"That's why the Wardens were banished from Ferelden." Levi was reading the parchment over her shoulder. "And why King Arland wiped out almost all of the Drydens. The history is a bit muddled, but apparently they opposed him in some way, especially my great grandmother. King Arland seized our lands and had us systematically slaughtered. The only reason any of my lineage survived is because they fled to Antiva and changed their names."

"What did they do?" Mallory gasped at the thought of the carnage. It all seemed so extreme. To wipe out an entire family name over what? She looked at Levi, who seemed lost in thought.

"I don't know." He replied. "No one has a straight answer and anyone I've asked outside our family sneers at our plight. You don't know what it's like. To have every noble berate you and call you a traitor for something that happened years ago. This is my only chance to find out and clear my family name. There must be something here that explains all this."

Her heart went out to him. It was obvious this meant the world to him. Something as simple as living in his ancestral home unmolested would be a dream come true to his entire family. "Don't worry, Levi. If there's something here, we will find it. Let's head out."

* * *

The dead were restless. They walked the halls and went through the daily motions they once had when they lived. The barracks were crawling with them, as was the kitchen and a rather stately library that made Mallory wish she could stop fighting and peruse the many books that went floor to ceiling. The corpses didn't cooperate with her desires and relentlessly attacked them until she crushed them to dust. Each room yielded a clue to the Warden's supposed betray of King Arland. Mallory found a few well worn correspondences that told the tale. The letters suggested that Arland was a madman and the Wardens broke their oath to protect their country from the machinations of a lunatic in power. The visions of the past they all witness showed the Wardens final struggle as Arland's men broke them down with starvation and overtook them, slaughtering the men and women of the Peak.

_It's no wonder they don't have peace. _Mallory thought as she flipped through the Warden archivist records. _They were only trying to protect their homeland and were cut down like dogs. No, I take that back. Ferelden's would treat their dogs with more respect than that. Damn! I can't read any of this. It's too faded. The only thing I can make out is something about Warden Commander Asturian's descent in to madness as a result of darkspawn taint. Intriguing, but not useful to us. I don't think the letters will be enough. People could argue that it was a Warden ploy to seize power. There has to be some proof we can take back to clear the Dryden name. _

With a frustrated sigh, she slammed the enormous chronicle shut with a bang. Levi's hopeful look melted away as she fanned the dust away from her face that had stirred from disturbing the ancient book.

"Nothing?" he said. His voice was meek and his shoulders slumped in hopelessness.

"Nothing yet." She corrected. "It's a big place, Levi. We've still got upstairs to check. Don't lose faith yet."

With the grinding agony in every step, she ascended the stairs to the second floor. Mallory stopped short when the entered a large chamber, causing Alistair to smack into her slightly.

"Sorry." He mumbled sheepishly.

Mallory didn't hear his apology. She was trying too hard not to bolt back down the stairs and out of the building as fast of her injured leg would allow. An overwhelming sense of wrongness permeated the room. The air hummed with energy creating the illusions of faint murmurings in the ear. Mallory swore they were calling her name, but in a madding way, the more she concentrated and listened, the less she could hear. Gossamer light danced in the center of the room shimmering and iridescent in the torch light as if a large bubble had recently burst and hung midair. The smell of ozone assaulted her nostrils, which flared in alarm as she recognized the scent. The Fade.

_What was it called? The Veil? Yes, the Veil. The intangible border that separates the Fade from the realm of the living. Something must have happened to it. I can FEEL the Fade in this area. This isn't right. What happened here to cause this?_

She got her answer a few seconds later. As the party rounded the barricade, the ghostly figures of Sophia Dryden and other Wardens materialized before their eyes.

The Wardens were backed into a corner with Arland's men rapidly advancing. Sophia was a marvel, cutting down two men even though her frame shook from starvation. Still, Arland's men pressed forward, driving the Wardens back. A look of desperation crossed her face as she realized they were doomed.

"Avernus!" The specter Warden Commander ordered. "Now! Release them now!"

Mallory shifted her attention to a wiry mage towards the back of the room. Her stomach lurched as he slit his ghostly wrists and phantom blood flowed. Portals opened everywhere as the blood mage summoned demon after demon into the world. Some of the demons swarmed the Arland soldiers, rending them to pieces with their sharp claws. However, most turned on the Wardens, exterminating them just as readily as their enemies.

"No!" Avernus cried in dismay as one demon dashed a young woman's brains out. She fell into a bloodly heap at the demon's feet. "Attack King Arland's soldiers! Not us!"

The demon casually stepped over the young woman's fallen form and advanced on Avernus. "Fool. You think to command me? You have summoned your death, little mage. I will feed on your soul!"

Panic stricken, Avernus turned and fled up another flight of stairs, abandoning Sophia and the remaining Wardens to their fate.

"Avernus!" Sophia raged as she cut down a lesser demon. She watched her companion turn and flee as the rest where slaughtered, lowering her sword in defeat. The woman stood proudly in the face of death as the horde of demons swallowed her up and the vision faded from existence.

"I-I can't believe the Wardens would do that." Levi stammered coming to his senses. "Use blood magic? What could ever posses them to do such a thing?!"

"They were Wardens." Mallory found herself saying. "We do whatever it takes to win. Blood magic is just a tool, like a sword. It's the wielder and the intent behind it that makes it dangerous." It was difficult for her to admit it. Alim had used blood magic to control her friends and hurt her beyond what she had believe he was capable of doing. And while she certainly didn't like the idea of taking away someone's free will, she could see where such a talent maybe useful or even necessary on their quest. She couldn't condemn all mages for the actions of a few, but she would always be wary of them now. They seemed to have more power than most were capable of controlling. However, summoning demons is where she drew the line. Any mage that did that in her presence was not likely to ever be able to use their hands again once she was through with them. The risk was too great.

"Come on." She said following the path of the retreating mage up the stairs. "What ever is going on here is escalating. We're getting close to some answers. I can feel it."

* * *

Mallory felt sick as she watched the thing that had been Sophia Dryden attempt to smile. After fighting their way through hordes of skeletons and shades, the party had stumbled upon Levi's great grandmother still pacing her office after two centauries. Or at least, what once had been his great grandmother. Ashen skin like dried parchment flaked and cracked as the corpse's lips stretched into a humorless grin at their approach. The dead flesh on the upper lip split bloodlessly, exposing a yellow tooth to the dim light. Some of the skin was bruised and mottled with dark splotches eerily similar to the ones that graced Mallory's side. The creature was a horror to behold, but it was her eyes that made Mallory's breath hitch in her throat. Softly glowing like the smoldering embers of a dying fire, the pupils dilated as they met her own. In those glowing orbs, Mallory discovered what she dreaded the most: the knowing eyes of a demon.

She took an involuntary step back as the demon winked at her recognition, seating itself in the Warden Commander's chair and reclining it's feet on the desk. A plume of dust rose as its heels struck the unyielding surface. Levi squeaked in terror when Mallory bumped into to him. He cowered behind the group, petrified of his possessed ancestor.

"Stop there, Warden!" The demon mused. "This one finds you fascinating and would speak with you."

"G-great grandma?" Levi stammered.

Mallory reaffirmed the grip on her weapon gratefully that the gauntlets she wore covered her sweaty palms and offered more friction. Otherwise, her weapon may have slipped from her grasp. She was shaking as the creature casually looked her over. Just being in its presence filled her with anxiety as memories flooded her mind making her relive each torturous experience once more. Mallory ground her teeth in frustration. She was so tired of being afraid! So instead, she harnessed her rage and channeled it towards the demon as she forced herself to take two steps forward. Her hammer hummed pleasantly in her palms, giving her confidence.

"The only thing fascinating here is how quickly we're going to end you!"

The corpse of Sophia Dryden laughed and rocked the ancient chair back on its heels. The wood creaked dangerously, but held as the demon continued to rock the chair to and fro hypnotically.

"Such hostility." She said, reclining and folding her hands behind her head. "Why the promise of violence, little mortal? This one has done nothing to harm you."

"Yet." Mallory replied sullenly. "If I let you live, you will. If not me, then others for certain."

"Are you so sure?" Sophia stood abruptly with a loud clang as the chair legs hit the stone floor causing the others to reach for their weapons. "You would destroy this one simply for existing? How noble you creatures are. How does that make you any different from my kin?"

"Don't you dare compare me to you!" Mallory growled growing angrier. Her hands shook for a different reason: Rage. She took a few breathes trying to calm herself before she lost control and did something rash. "We are nothing alike!"

The demon made a dismissive gesture with her hand and sat on the edge of the desk. "Very well, mortal. It matters not. Besides, destroying this body will only add to your problems. Return this one to the Fade and you WILL regret it."

Mallory's snarl faltered at the conviction in the demon's tone. "W-what do you mean?"

"Don't listen to it, Mallory." Alistair whispered. "Demons tell nothing but lies."

The former Warden-Commander gave him a deliberate smirk. "Not always, templar. Sometimes we tell the truths that no one wishes to hear. It's you that convince yourselves they are lies. Such fragile minds you mortals have. So easily shattered with such little effort." She focused her red eyes on Mallory and they seemed to glow even brighter as they pierced through her armor and straight through her soul. "Except you. This one can see why he wants you. You offer a challenge."

Mallory's blood turned to ice in her veins. _Hybris. She's talking about Hybris._

Sophia inclined her head in a small nod of acknowledgement as Mallory's pupils widened in fear. "You don't actually think you can harm this one here, do you? All you would do is destroy this vessel and return me to the Fade. A prospect that neither of us would benefit from. No, to truly kill one of my kind you would have to enter the Fade and destroy us there. A feat you would not survive."

"Get to the point." Mallory responded. She cast a nervous glance at her companions. The demon may have already had said too much and she didn't care for it to reveal any more. Zevran was examining her shrewdly and she didn't relish the questions that would undoubtedly arise from this conversation.

The demon seemed to sense this. Smiling, she continued. "This one offers an… exchange. You see, this one likes it here and has gotten rather attached to this form. This one would like to remain and explore the places this one has seen in the Warden's memories. We are certain you've noticed the droves of shades and undead that populates this place. The Veil is torn badly making it easy for my brethren to pass into your world. Dangerous for you.. and more competition for me."

She paused for a moment, idly peeling off a finger nail and flicking it to the floor as Mallory processed the underlying message behind her words. Mallory swallowed hard. _If the Veil is torn, then Hybris can easily come and collect me. If I destroy her, she'll return to the Fade and alert him to my presence. I don't want to make a covenant with a demon but if I don't… He may be here in moments.. seconds… I doubt I would even have a chance to fight or flee before… before…._

"What do you want?" She murmured. She put her maul away and set her mouth in a resolved frown.

"We're not actually going to deal with a demon, are we?!" Alistair began. "Mall-!"

"Let me handle this, Alistair." Mallory cut him off calmly. "We can't leave the Veil open. Who knows what would come through and how many people would die? Let's at least hear it out."

"Oooh good. This one love compromise. So, here's the deal. My summoner lies on the side of the other door. He has bound this body to this place but his death will release me. Kill him and this one will seal the tear in the Veil. This one will walk away free… and so do you. A fair trade. Do you not agree?"

Mallory hesitated. In every bit of lore, every tale, the demon always go the better end of the bargain. Just because she couldn't see it now, didn't mean this wouldn't come back to haunt her later. And she was loath to strike any type of agreement simply because it would leave her feeling unclean, but the consequences would be dire if she ignored its warning. Every instinct screamed at her to obliterate the monster and take her revenge. To smash its grinning face in with unrestrained glee just so she could make sure it never hurt her or anyone ever again. To let it walk away and claim other victims was just as unthinkable as her killing a random stranger to secure her own freedom. If she destroyed the demon, however, the Veil would remain open and more monsters would be free to roam Ferelden and prey on its people. And that would be the least of her worries if it contacted Hybris and he came for her.

The demon rapped her fingertips across the desk in impatience, waiting for a reply as Mallory carefully weighed her options. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes and replied. "Agreed, but seal the Veil first or no deal. I promise."

"You don't trust this one?" The demon chided mockingly as she moved to the door. The party gave her wide berth as the walked through the archway towards the main chamber. "Very well. Follow, and this one will seal the tear if that will hurry this along."

Mallory started after the demon, but Alistair grabbed her wrist. Mallory startled as his strong fingers wrapped around her wrist and stopped her from pursuing the demon. She looked over her shoulder at his condemning expression in confusion.

"Consorting with a demon!" He whispered fiercely. "Have you lost your mind? That's exactly what Alim did! Never deal with a demon! Do you want to end up like him?!"

"The Qun is clear on what to do with demons." Sten joined. "Destroy them quickly and dispose of them."

"Trust me!" She hissed. "I know what I'm doing." She angrily snatched back her hand from him and stormed after the demon. Sophia was already waiving her hands around in a series of complex gestures. She spoke in a language further warped by the mutli-tonal voice she spoke in. Electricity crackled in the atmosphere as the fabric of reality merged together. Mallory held her breath, stomach churning as the portal between the waking world and the Fade sealed with an audible pop as the air filled the vacuum.

"There. It is done." The demon rasped turning to Mallory in slight exasperation. "Now, fulfill your end of the bargain. Go and destroy that which keeps us here. This one would see this world."

Mallory walked to the demon's side and outstretched her hand towards where the portal had lain. Her hand passed through the air and she felt nothing. No tingling, no resistance, no shifting of the light. The rift to the Fade was gone. The demon had been true to her word. Mallory let out a relieved sigh and dropped her hand. She was safe… for now.

"I appreciate your cooperation." She replied automatically, not looking at the demon.

"This one is becoming impatient. Go now, before this one kills you anyways." The demon sneered.

"That's what you intend to do anyways, isn't it?" Mallory said reaching for her maul. She stared blankly ahead, still refusing to look at the demon, her voice trembling as she spoke. "Wait till we do your dirty work and free you and then kill us anyways. That's all your kind knows how to do. Destroy. You have no concept of honor, love, or compassion. You exist only to cause pain and misery and feed of the carnage you create."

The maul was in her hands now, singing in her grip. Only now did she looked at the demon, her eyes brimming with loathing. Her mouth twisted in contempt, baring her incisor like the fangs of a feral beast.

In shock, the demon defensively put up her arms as Mallory drew near, intent to annihilate her very clear. The demon was trapped and with the Veil sealed, could not call on any minions from the Fade to come to its aide.

"You promised!" It hissed as the warrior raised the hammer high.

"I lied." Mallory said flatly as the hammer came crashing down. The demon howled in agony as the head of the maul crushed her armor into her chest. Taking her cue, the rest her companions joined in and flanked the demon, cutting it down. The demon transformed, attempting to rake them with dagger like claws but it was overwhelmed by the team. Zevran darted in and out with lightening speed and slashed at its vulnerable parts. Alistair knocked it down with his shield while Sten and Mallory assaulted it with all their might. In the end, all that was left of Levi's great grandmother was a nasty smear on the stone floor. Panting, Mallory looked over her handy work, feeling no remorse for her betrayal.

"It appears you were correct." Mallory said to the corpse, shaking bits of gore from her weapon. "Guess we aren't so different after all."

* * *

Back in the shrine room, Mallory pulled the lid of the jam jar and took a whiff of it, immediately regretting it. Apparently unlike a fine wine, raspberry jam did not get better with age. Two centuries had nothing to improve is scent and she wasn't about to test its palatability. She had read the label on the jar about Austrian's supposed obsession with an eleven princess who favored jam and just about died laughing. She had never heard anything so ridiculous. She put the lid back on the jar and placed it back on the shrine.

"Mallory." Alistair's voice came from behind her. Mallory cringed inwardly, dreading what was coming next. "What was it talking about?"

"What was what talking about?" She replied innocently, picking up the jam jar again and pretending to reread the label.

"The demon." Alistair stated matter-o- factly. "It said it could 'see why he wants you.' That you 'offer a challenge.' What does that mean?" A slight edge had crept into his voice.

"How should I know? You said it yourself. Demons lie. It was probably a psychological tactic to drive a wedge between us. You're not going to let it work, are you?"

"I.. No… but-"

"What do think about this jam?" She interjected hoping to change the subject.

"The.. the jam?" Alistair asked confused.

"Yeah. Should we keep it? What if it's some super secret Warden recipe?" She asked thrusting the jar into his hands. "You know, like part of the Joining ritual or something?"

The templar looked at the jar somewhat dumbfounded. "I highly doubt jam is part of the Joining."

"Exactly!" She replied opening the door that had previously sealed by magic. The door opened to a long bridge that spanned the buttresses and led to an ornate tower. The wind blew fiercely, moaning through the architecture and chilling her to the bone.

"You have to admit." Mallory bantered. "No one would ever suspect it. It's the perfect secret ingredient!"

"What is this Joining you are referring to?" Zevran asked luridly. "Whatever it is, it sounds sexy. Especially with jam and a particular Warden involved! Count me in!"

Mallory took one look at the expression on Alistair's face and decide to cross the bridge, eternally appreciative that the wind carried her abundant laughter away from his ears.


End file.
